Her Game
by Zyellowz
Summary: Mixed teams aren't allowed in high school competitions, so Kuroko Tetsuko is forced to take drastic measures. Fem!Kuroko.
1. Chapter 1

_A.N. This idea wouldn't get out of my head._

* * *

 **Her Game**

* * *

 _I am Kuroko Tetsuya, first year male student at Seirin High School. Before this year, I've been home-schooled all my life, which is why I don't have a school record._

Seirin made me sit an exam during the holidays to check I had the required level to enroll. It wasn't very hard – I passed. The school uniform had arrived this morning to my mailbox.

 _I am Kuroko Tetsuya, first year **male** student at Seirin High School._

Now to assess whether I looked the part. My eyes roved over the mirror one more time.

I'd had short hair since middle school – it helped with misdirection, and it didn't get in your eyes or stick to your face when you sweated. All it had needed was a spikier, more dramatic trim. As for my features, males with delicate noses weren't unheard of; getting a tan over the holidays helped de-feminize me to some extent. My voice I would have to consciously lower. Though, again, guys with higher-pitched voices did exist, and at the tender age of fifteen I had the claim to late puberty.

Moving on: the black school uniform covered my body in its entirety below the neck. I had small breasts, easily flattened with a tight sports bra; it wouldn't be evident from my figure that I was female, not when I wore this.

The basketball kit would be another matter entirely. In general, kits were baggy enough and I was thin and flat enough that I wasn't worried about any forms showing; but there was the issue of the massive armpit hole, through which anyone would be able to observe the presence of bra as soon as I lifted my arms. Since such a movement was inevitable in basketball, I resolved to wear a white undershirt under the kit. Not many players chose to, but it wasn't against the rules.

Tetsuya's unperturbed blue eyes stared back at me from the mirror. The way he appeared now, with the school uniform, he seemed like an ordinary guy. Bland face, all in all unremarkable – even his pale hair wouldn't make him stand out from the crowd. At one meter sixty-eight, he was an average height given his nationality and age; as a basketball player… He was tiny. Not that it mattered, since height had no relevance to my form of play.

Tetsuya slung his bag over his shoulder and stuffed his hands in his pockets before turning away from the mirror.

One day this deception of mine would come to an end. I could only claim late puberty for so long; and I suspected that time would accentuate my curves – my hips would widen, even if my breasts didn't grow any bigger. I had a year left, maybe two at most, before my ability to pass unnoticed would no longer be enough to hide my maturing anatomy.

I had a time limit.

Like I needed _another_ problem piled up on the mountain of inconveniences that already hindered this enterprise.

On the flipside, I would no longer need to shave my legs before a game. Ah, the privileges of the male gender.

* * *

It was quite simple, really: middle school basketball allowed mixed gender teams, but the genders were separated in high school. Hence I'd had to enroll in high school as a boy – to continue playing in the same league as the Miracles.

The idea hadn't been mine. It belonged to one Momoi Satsuki, who was also instrumental in its execution.

Bubbly, beautiful and intelligent, she'd been the most popular girl in our old school by far. Boys flocked to her like moths to a flame or flies to the cotton-candy sugary pink of her hair. She and I were the only two girls in the Generation of Miracles – yes, Momoi might not have been a player, but she was as much a part of the team as the rest of us.

She was a bit childish but charming, had top grades, and was friends with everyone. In a way, she shone as brightly as Aomine, which was probably why we were so compatible.

She was the only one who understood why I left, the only one who saw the ugliness and darkness of what we had become and swore she'd help me fight it. And when I asked _how, I'll be in the female league in high school_ _,_ she was thoughtful for a long while before smiling foxily. "I have an idea."

She used her research and her connections to create me an imaginary twin and enroll him in Seirin. She even took me to get my hair cut and shop for new clothes and helped me practice how to talk, move and act like a boy over the holidays. She'd gifted me a mobile phone for my last birthday, to "make sure I didn't mess it up". It started vibrating in my pocket just as I left my apartment.

"Tetsu-chan!" her voice greeted happily. "How are you feeling? Nervous about your first day?"

"A little bit," I admitted.

"Don't be. You're so unremarkable I doubt anyone will notice you." At my silence, she giggled. "Aw, you know I meant it as a compliment."

I could feel the corners of my lips twitching up. "Thank you, Momoi-chan."

"As long as you act like we practiced you'll be fine," she reassured. "Just remember – be careful around Aida Riko. She's perceptive. Wear the white undershirt."

"I am."

"Good." There was a familiar voice in the background – a timbre I hadn't heard in months, and the rise and fall of it, the arrogant drawling tone, made my heart squeeze in my chest. "Daiki wants something, I have to go," Momoi said, "but I know you can do it! Have faith in yourself. I'll call you later so you can tell me how it went."

"Okay."

"Bye! And good luck!"

Momoi was right. My first day as a Kuroko Tetsuya was unremarkable. I coasted through school like I usually did, by being invisible. Nothing at the welcome fair was interesting enough to hold my attention, so I found the stall of the basketball club, filled in a form and left to look for a quiet place to finish my book. Throughout the morning no one questioned my masculinity or indeed questioned me at all.

Classes started that afternoon. Experience had taught me that I would be ignored during lessons even if I sat in the front row, so I chose a desk at the back, a vantage point sheltered from the noise from which I could observe the rest of my classmates.

They were quite normal, my classmates. Not very different from the last year of middle school. Perhaps the girls wore more make up. People mingled awkwardly, as was bound to happen in a group of teenagers that didn't know each other, forced together through inevitable circumstance.

I watched the greetings and the introductions. The delicate start of conversations, the tentative beginning of friendships that I would never be a part of. There was a time when the loneliness used to be a terrible thing, a black beast with claws in the back of my neck. Now I almost welcomed it. I'd probably never form bonds with my classmates, but if no one noticed me, then no one would notice my gender.

The only place I'd ever belonged in – _Teiko_ – had crumbled under my feet like a sand castle. The only people who respected me had turned into monsters and I'd watched it happen before my eyes without being able to stop it. The aftertaste of betrayal and disappointment still clung to my tongue. Was all this effort really to try bringing them back, or was it revenge I was after? It was hard to tell, sometimes.

Conversations trailed off as people turned to stare at me. Not me, the door behind me. A new person had entered the room.

"There's no way that guy's our age."

"He seems scary."

"Look at his hair."

"I think he's kind of cool."

The boy in question plopped down on the seat next to mine, stretching out his legs under the desk and leaning his chair back, making himself comfortable. I didn't disguise my curious gaze, secure in the certainty of my invisibility.

He was huge. Possibly taller sitting down than I standing up. His hair was a dark red, but the tips were black, and I wondered which of the two colors was dyed. He had rough features set in a permanent frown. The eyes were the most striking: narrow, with a deep and intense red pigmentation in the iris, a gaze that radiated so much intent I could feel the pressure like a physical thing. His black gakuran dangled open, showing the shirt underneath and the necklace hanging from his neck - clearly he either didn't know or didn't care about uniform regulations. His body language was at ease, but he had a pressure about him, something coiled and ready to leap at the slightest provocation. I was surprised he didn't sport any facial tattoos or piercings to finish the look.

"Hey," he barked to the guy sitting in front of him, who startled and turned reluctantly. "When is class supposed to start?"

Reluctant gulped. "Five minutes, I think." He turned around quickly, eager to get back to the cute, petite girl he'd been chatting with.

Tall and Intense grumbled under his breath, his frown deepening. He reached into his bag to retrieve a basketball, which he started spinning on his index finger to pass the time, and my interest multiplied ten-fold. He switched it from his index finger to his middle and back with a bored expression.

"Do you play?"

He jumped, his knees knocking against the bottom of his desk. The ball went flying and hit Reluctant on the head. "Ow!" the boy complained, but Tall and Intense ignored him, turning towards me instead.

"Who're you? And how long have you been sitting there?"

"My name's Kuroko Tetsuya, and I've been here since before you came," I replied without missing a beat, having expected the question. I reached down to pick up the ball, which had bounced back towards my desk. I couldn't help noticing how much bigger it looked in my hands than when he'd been holding it. "It's polite to introduce yourself when someone gives you their name," I prompted as I handed the ball back.

He eyed me suspiciously. "Kagami Taiga."

"Nice to meet you, Kagami-kun." I waited, but he simply stared back, so I repeated my question. "Do you play basketball?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Me too."

He frowned. "Players are short in Japan."

"No, that's just me."

He made a non-committal grunt and went back to spinning the ball at the tip of his finger.

I wasn't quite willing to let the topic die just yet – this was the longest conversation I'd had all day, and besides, if he was going to be one of my teammates, I might as well get to know him a bit. "What position do you play? Center?"

"Power forward."

I nodded. Like Aomine.

I tried not to get my hopes up.

* * *

I hadn't gotten to play basketball much over the holidays, as most of my time had been devoted to the planning and creation of my new identity. I dreaded holding a ball again – I feared I would hate it. Even after so long, I hadn't managed to completely excise the negative feelings I'd grown to associate with that orange sphere.

By the time the final bell rang I had mixed feelings about attending the basketball club's practice. I thought I'd been ready, but my throat was dry and my fingers trembled when I put my hand on the door of the gym.

 _Don't be ridiculous, Tetsuya. What was the point of this whole thing if you're not going to play? You can't chicken out now._ Steeling myself, I pushed the door open. I regretted my choice almost immediately afterwards, when the Coach spoke her first words.

"Take off your shirts."

I blinked.

While the rest of the team went slack-jawed and started shouting in outrage, I considered my options. No one was aware of my presence yet, so I had some time.

I was wearing the white undershirt, but I had a feeling she would order to take that off, too, if what they were saying was true – she could gauge players' physical abilities just by looking at their muscles? How interesting. It would be a great advantage for the team – focus, Tetsuya, this is a huge problem.

Momoi had resorted to her slightly less legal skillset to acquire Aida Riko's records and files, with little to show for it. We hadn't for one second imagined that Riko would hold this kind of talent. If I'd known, I would have chosen a different school.

Someone who was so good at assessing bodies wouldn't need to see me shirtless to guess I was a girl.

I could walk straight out of the gym. While it would keep the secret of my gender safe for now, Riko would realize it the next time she saw me, and since she was the coach I couldn't avoid her forever.

But if I stayed, I would be discovered. Would she understand? Could I get her on my side? _Either way, the sooner the better,_ I decided. If it went badly, I'd have more time to transfer to a different school.

Riko looked down at the sign-up sheets she'd brought from the welcome fair. "Wait a second, where's Kuroko? How come he didn't show up?" She looked around, her eyes sliding over me. "Well, I guess he's taking the day off. Let's start-"

Sighing again, I went to stand in front of her, raising a hand. "Errr, excuse me… I am Kuroko."

Cue the "Since when were you here?" "Since the beginning," routine. The number of times I'd gone through this in my life was well into the triple digits.

Now that I'd made my presence known, I could feel their assessing gazes on me and their immediate dismissal. _Weak._ I observed with particular interest the exchange of glances between the coach and the captain. _He looks like a beginner. What do we do with this guy?_ Riko seemed to ask _._ The captain, a fairly tall guy with glasses, thoughtfully slid his eyes to the water bottles piled up near the bench.

"So, you're the guy who was home schooled? This must be your fist time playing basketball, right?" Riko asked, smiling.

"Actually, I have played in school matches for several years."

She seemed surprised by this. "Really? Which school did you play with?"

"Teiko."

The shock was universal. Someone at the back whispered, "But he looks so _weak."_ Since the silence in the gym was almost complete, everyone heard it, and the culprit gulped and ducked behind the guy who stood next to him, a familiar giant with red hair. Said giant was staring at me with a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

Riko put her hands on her hips. "Well, take off your shirt."

"I'd rather not."

"What do you mean you'd…" She didn't finish the sentence, her brown eyes widening as she looked at my chest, at my arms, at my hips. Her eyes snapped to my face.

I waited. There wasn't much else I could do.

"You do realize this is a _boy's_ basketball club, right?"

"Yes."

She took two decisive steps towards me and grabbed my arm. "You're coming with me. Hyuga," she said to the captain, "run some drills."

She dragged me into the girls' changing room and forced me to sit down on the bench while behind us, the sounds of training started.

"You're a girl. I can tell, so don't try to deny it. Explain."

Riko wasn't a stunning beauty. She had brown hair that she wore short and brown eyes. She didn't use any make-up, had an average build, and, overall, looked quite plain and normal. But there was a confidence to her, the feeling that she was used to giving orders – to say it reminded me of Akashi would be a stretch, but there was a natural assertiveness that probably came from bossing around a bunch of boys on a daily basis. There was also a cold and calculating glint in her eye when she looked at me now. I didn't like it.

The truth was, I didn't want to tell her my motives. They were complicated and personal. But I didn't really have a choice.

I was purposefully vague, without letting my expression or tone betray my feelings. Yes, I knew that some schools had women's basketball, but I had to defeat the Miracles and for that I had to be a boy. Why? I'd made a promise.

I watched as she started pacing back and forth in the changing room, her frown deepening. She stopped in front of me. "You _really_ played with Teiko?" I nodded. "But how? If you were home-schooled-" she slapped her forehead with her hand. "Of course. That was a lie. You actually went to Teiko. As a girl. The middle school league is mixed."

"Yes." Sharp.

She gave me a once-over, her eyes going from the top of my head to my toes and back up. I could practically hear the wheels spinning in her mind as she realized just how much effort I'd put into this, and there was judgement there – was she impressed? Did she think I was crazy? Perhaps she wouldn't be wrong. This whole thing was more than slightly insane – a desperate bid because I didn't have anything to lose.

"Stand up and take off your shirt," she ordered. I obeyed, remaining silent as she studied my form, until she shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I find it hard to believe you. It would already be hard enough for a girl to compete physically against a boy, but your stats are even lower than average. You just don't have the right muscles for a basketball player."

She was right, of course. Even in middle school the guys had been leagues above me physically, a difference that would only increase as they got older. However, my ability didn't rely on physical superiority or conventional skill as much as it didn't rely on height. I was a pure specialist. "Let me play a game and I'll show you," I proposed as I slipped my shirt back on.

She considered for a long while, her eyes snapping back to me every so often. "So let me get this straight. You'll keep pretending to be a boy through classes, until you graduate?"

I shrugged. "For as long as I can."

"All that, just to play against the Miracles – your old teammates from Teiko?"

"To _defeat_ the Miracles."

She chewed on the inside of her mouth thoughtfully. She probably didn't realize it, but she had huge power over me; if she decided to kick me out of the club, I would have to transfer, try again in a different school. If she reported me to the principal, I'd have to claim gender identity crisis or something equally drastic to be allowed to play. She had my life in her hands in that moment.

Finally, a cat-like smile spread on her lips and her eyes became thin, mischievous slits. She nodded. "Alright."

"Alright?"

She nodded again, her smile growing into a grin. "Yes. Anyone who goes through so much trouble for basketball deserves to play. I'll keep your secret."

"Thank you," I replied sincerely. I had half-expected her to rat me out, but it seemed Riko was made of more noble stuff than that. I was quite impressed actually – I'd made the right choice in joining this school. From a purely practical point of view, it was also good to have someone on my side, especially if it was the coach.

"It goes without saying that I won't treat you any differently from the other players. You'll be expected to work just as hard as everyone else."

I nodded. "Of course." I looked at her in the eyes seriously. "I won't let you down, coach."

"No, you won't," she agreed. "Because if you do… I'll make you play naked."

I think she was joking.

Probably.

* * *

I called Momoi that afternoon to tell her about it.

"That's great!" she cheered. "I'm happy you found an ally and if it's the coach, then it's even better." After a pause, she added, "So, what do you think about your new team?"

From anyone else that question would have been perfectly innocent. But this was Momoi, an information gathering specialist. Even if she actually wanted me to win, she also respected herself and her duty to her own team. She was probably updating her file on Aida Riko right now with the information I'd already given her.

So I was careful with my answer. "They're alright."

"Tetsukooooo," she whined, "that's vague, even for you. Isn't there an interesting story you can tell me?"

"Momoi," I reprimanded.

"Sorry," she replied sheepishly in her normal voice. "Habit."

"I'm sure you already know almost everything about them anyway," I chuckled, "though there might be a freshman that will surprise you."

"A freshman? Who?"

I smiled to myself; I could feel her curiosity burning even through the phone. "You'll see." I hung up before giving her the chance to insist.

I was referring to Kagami Taiga, of course.

He was… Well, how to describe him?

He was, basically, a mountain of raw talent stuffed into a pair of basketball shoes. An extremely physical, athletic, aggressive player, perfectly at ease with the pressure that came with being a major scorer, thriving in it. Fearless on the court, he played his best when he was challenged. He was an ace, plain and simple, destined to hog the spotlight in any game he participated in.

His talent became obvious in the first mini-game we played. Riko pit the first years against the seniors to get a grasp on our level. Although I knew she'd intended to keep an eye on me, her attention, like everyone else's, was drawn to Kagami as soon as the whistle blew. He dominated the game, quickly pulling our points ahead.

I chose to save my intervention for when our team actually needed it and thus continued to remain unnoticed. Truthfully, I was still reluctant to touch the ball. I told myself it wasn't the same as before, it wouldn't _be_ the same as before, but the sound of shoes squeaking and the ball bouncing were unpleasant and almost made me cringe.

I was also curious about the seniors. According to Momoi, they'd made it to the final league of Interhigh with only _six_ players, and all freshmen; they had to be exceptional. It was why I'd chosen this school in the first place – a young team with dreams and everything to prove – this was the kind of place where I'd be able to find my love of basketball again.

They didn't disappoint. They double-teamed Kagami to take him out of the game, cutting him off from the ball. Those who weren't defending Kagami dealt with the rest of us easily, even though it was four-on-three. Then again, I was one of the four, and I wasn't doing much, so it was more of a three-on-three. I liked their offense as well, a relentless run-and-gun that had us straining to keep up.

 _They're getting too far ahead. It's time, Tetsuya._ Plus, I had something to prove to my coach.

I forced myself to get over my reservations and redirected a pass to a free guy under the basket, who seemed surprised to be suddenly holding the ball, but he scored easily. My next pass, and nearly all of them after that, went to Kagami.

Even though I'd never played with him before, it was like I had known him my whole life. Our timing was near-perfect; I could accurately predict his movements not by watching the twitch of his muscles, but because I could guess what he was _thinking_ ; and he never seemed surprised when I knocked the ball his way. In twenty minutes we had the kind of chemistry that teams spent years trying to build. I was pleasantly surprised by his competitive spirit and good sportsmanship – I'd had doubts earlier, when I'd met him in the classroom, but it seemed that despite his appearance, he wasn't a thug. All his intensity was positive and devoted to improving his game.

I felt a sense of nostalgia wash over me. This had been what it was like, with Aomine, in the good years.

But he wasn't Aomine; it showed in the rough, unpolished offense and the raw power of his movements. I recognized in Kagami something I hadn't seen in a long time: pure passion for the game, the relentless desire to play, play, play. Whether we were winning or losing, Kagami _loved_ basketball and had a hell of a fun time. Suddenly, I found it easier to push all the memories of Teiko to a dark corner of my mind and lock it, because the past was in the past and had nothing to do with him at all.

I missed the last lay-up; but I already knew that he would be right behind me, taking the rebound and slamming it back. I could picture the exact expression on his face when he said, hanging from the hoop and looking down at me, "That's why weak guys piss me off. Score properly, idiot!"

I couldn't help the small smile that shaped my lips.

* * *

 **The Maji Bruger Conversations, part one**

That evening, at the fast food joint, he sat at my table. I amused myself counting the seconds, minutes actually, that he took to realize he wasn't alone. When he finally noticed we jumped into the "Since when were you here?" routine (I decided to reset the counter at number one hundred and one). He tossed me a wrapped burger.

I caught it, surprised.

"I think you're weird but… I'll acknowledge you're worth one burger."

I eyed the pile of twenty or so burgers in front of him. "I feel honored."

I could feel Kagami studying me out of the corner of his eye as we ate. Obviously something was on his mind; I remained silent, enjoying my vanilla shake while waiting for him to speak. Ah, vanilla shake: ye complete my life. Maji was the lamest and cheapest fast food chain in existence, but they produced the nectar of the gods.

Kagami didn't speak until we had both finished and were leaving the restaurant. Remarkably, he had taken the same amount of time to eat his twenty burgers than I my one burger and shake.

"How strong are the generation of Miracles? Say, if I were to go against one of them right now, what would happen?"

I truthfully replied, "You would be instantly killed." At this time of night, the neighbourhood was empty, and my words echoed along the road like a death sentence.

It wasn't that Kagami didn't have potential. His potential was stratospheric. The problem was, he wasn't a mature player. Still rough around the edges, still lacking that sharpness that would make him able to compete against guys like Kise or Aomine in a one-on-one situation.

Of course, basketball wasn't a one-on-one game.

He took my certainty as a challenge, as I expected. His expression morphed into a feral grin. "Even better. That's exactly what I'm looking for! I'll prove I can take all these guys down and become number one in Japan."

He looked formidable then, radiating anticipation and confidence, powerful and wild and unstoppable. I had a strange feeling in that moment, looking at him.

What had I been scared of? He was everything I'd hoped for and more.

* * *

 _A.N.2: I know there are some Fem!Kuroko fics lying around, but I don't think a Crossdressing!Fem!Kuroko has been done before. So yeah. In my head this is a full length fic with eventual romance but I don't_ _know if it deserves the time and effort. What do you think?_


	2. Chapter 2

_A.N.: If you're curious about the mention of a moonwalking bear in this chapter, google awareness test: moonwalking bear._

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

* * *

A team is a balance of individual parts, each with its own characteristics and patterns. The parts move and interact with each other to form a greater design, a moving ensemble specific to every team. No two basketball teams were ever the same.

The design may revolve around an ace player, like planets orbiting the sun; if it revolves around two or three key players, the orbit becomes more complex, weaving and changing centre. It may be that every player possesses the same gravitational pull, and the team moves in a delicate balance, each individual forming an intricate trajectory around the others. One thing is clear: whatever the form of the team, the patterns of the parts are intertwined with each other in such a way that when one moves, the others must adjust.

Teiko hadn't been a team. Each player was its own unmovable Sun, powerful and completely independent and isolated from the others. The space between them had been cold and empty; as if they had drifted so far apart they didn't feel each other's pull anymore. I, the lone comet flitting between them, trying to use my meager gravity to bring them back together, had been doomed to failure from the very start.

Seirin was the complete opposite. Despite being a young team, they were strongly intertwined, almost moving in tandem. I also noticed a peculiarity, a missing piece as Seirin reordered its pattern to include the new arrivals. There was a black hole in this team: a force that exerted a pull over the other players, even though there was nothing there to cause it. Kagami filled that gap to an extent, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that the team wasn't _complete._

Ah. The old Seirin had made it to the final Interhigh with six players, but of those six, only five were present this year - that explained the hole: one of them had left. It would take some time for the team to adjust to that person's absence, just like adjusting to Kagami's enormous gravitational pull or my subtle, almost non-existing presence.

Then there was Riko – there was no denying that she was gifted. In any sport, the coach played a special role: at the same time inside and outside the pattern, they could build the team to its zenith or destroy it completely. Riko paid attention to each part and how they fitted together, tried to visualize the form of the final design and push us towards it. I could catch glimpses of our potential reflected in her eyes; her sight reached further than any of us into what we could become, and with every practice she brought us one step closer towards that vision.

Seirin was a good team. Whether they were good enough to shoot for the best in Japan was questionable, but they got points for spirit. And truly, their goal didn't seem any more impossible than me defeating the Miracles, in fact the two things were sort of interchangeable, but the way they phrased it was more romantic.

I lay in my bed in my empty apartment, staring at the ceiling as I rolled the idea in my mind.

Thinking of the Miracles always left a tangy, unpleasant aftertaste in the back of my tongue. Even the good memories were tainted with regret and bitterness. I had decided to defeat them because it was the only way I could think of to make them understand, to make them see; at the same time some part of me had already given up, convinced that those years were lost and even if I won they wouldn't ever really come back.

I would defeat them because it was my duty; because I couldn't forgive myself if I didn't at least try. Succeeding wouldn't make me happy. I didn't _want_ to make them experience the despair and disappointment that came with loss but I _had_ to, out of respect for myself and for Momoi and for the old Teiko that had been my sanctuary.

I'd been so centered on the past I hadn't realized that Seirin had another goal entirely - a goal in the future.

Best in Japan.

It had a nice ring to it.

Teiko wasn't my team anymore. I tried speaking it out loud to the basketball merchandise on my shelves. "Best in Japan."

It would take some time for me to stop looking backwards but perhaps I could make an effort. Perhaps I could make this about Kagami and Seirin instead of a team that no longer existed and would probably never exist again.

I got up from the bed and slid my feet into my sneakers. It was already dark outside, a bit late to go out, but I slipped a coat on and made my way back to school.

I spent the majority of that night writing in huge letters on the school courtyard with a broken piece of branch. It was only polite to follow my new team's traditions, after all. The next morning, the entire school was in an uproar about my message. Speculations flew around as to who had written it and what it was referring to – there was even a story about the ghost of the principal's long-dead lover seeking revenge or something equally absurd. It became known as the Seventh Mystery of Seirin High.

I watched Kagami as he went to stand by the window to check out the commotion, his grin widening when he saw it. He came back to his desk and splayed on his chair. "Good job, Kuroko," he commented smugly. "But you didn't sign it."

"I forgot."

"One more thing." He leaned forward intently. "It's not _want_. It's _will._ You _will_ make us the best in Japan."

I bit on the end of my pen, hiding a smile.

"What's so funny?" he growled.

"I'm glad I chose you, Kagami-kun."

His eyebrow twitched, and he leaned away from me. "Weirdo," he muttered, shaking his head.

* * *

 **The Maji Burger conversations, part two**

Team trainings happened three times per week: on Monday, Wednesday and Friday after school, from four to six p.m. They left me feeling like a corpse afterwards. All the boys looked exhausted usually, but I was the only one who collapsed as soon as the final whistle blew and had to lie there on the ground for nearly ten minutes before I was able to even think about moving again. Kagami made fun of me for it, calling me "Weak-o Kurok-o" which even Izuki, the resident pun enthusiast, found lame. Unfortunately I was too busy trying to get air back into my lungs to articulate a proper comeback.

He had a point, though. My stamina was an embarrassment. As was nearly everything else except my passes.

Thus was my new life as a high school student. Get up, get dressed, go to school. Go to training, _die_ in training, revive with Maji's vanilla shakes. So far, no one in the team had commented on my being too feminine or anything of the sort, so that was going well.

I often met Kagami at Maji's and we sat together. We didn't talk much, but when we did, it was invariably about the Miracles and strategies to defeat them. He was especially interested in Aomine – though that was the topic I was more reluctant to breach, and I usually directed his attention elsewhere.

"How do you do it?" he asked me once.

"Do what?"

"The ghost thing."

 _The ghost thing._ _Really._ I slurped my shake, trying not to feel insulted. "It's not so hard. I have a weak presence."

He frowned. "But during a game it's _different._ There are only ten players, everyone is focused on the court, how can you disappear just like that?"

I picked up one of my fries, dipped it in ketchup, and threw it at his jacket. "Hey!" he protested, looking down at his chest. I ducked under the table. His legs shifted as he looked up. "What do- Kuroko?"

I waited crouching for a few seconds while he looked around in confusion, then slammed my fist on his knee. He startled and started to bend down, his hands blindly groping under the table; I came back up to my seat. When Kagami finally lifted his head, I picked up a new fry and popped it in my mouth.

He stared at me incredulously while I continued eating. "Idiot!" he exclaimed, reaching across the table to hit me on the head, almost making me choke. "Did you have to ruin my uniform?"

"You're the one who asked."

"And it still doesn't make sense," he continued, steamrolling over my protest. "In a game you can't distract others by throwing shit at them."

I sighed, not quite in the mood to explain the intricacies of misdirection. How the human brain was flawed and would discard sensory information on the basis that it wasn't relevant. How I was good at telling where someone's attention was and all the little tricks to make them focus on what I wanted them to. How misdirection was easy when Kagami himself was on the court, simply because he drew the opposing players' focus to him. How I was shorter than everyone else, so I could effectively hide behind others. How I cared for my shoes so they didn't squeak or make much noise, how I never touched the ball in the first few minutes of a game, how I never shouted or yelled or expressed strong emotions or did anything to call attention to myself.

"It's a trade secret," I decided.

He slammed his hands down on the table. "You're just too lazy to explain, aren't you?"

Geez. No need to be so violent. "Fine. I'm a moonwalking bear."

"What kind of explanation is that!"

So I got out my phone and showed him the video.

I watched his expression morph into a concentrated frown while I sucked on my straw. "These guys suck," he muttered under his breath, his eyes roving all over the screen. He grinned smugly, then frowned in confusion, then his eyes widened in understanding, and finally he looked pensive.

He had a very expressive face. It was probably the eyebrows.

" _It's easy to miss something you're not looking for,"_ he read in English. "Huh." He handed the phone back, and we didn't speak for some time.

Finally my curiosity got the better of me. "Can _you_ see me on the court, Kagami-kun?"

I'd wondered, because while he didn't look directly at me or gave any indication that he knew I was there, so far he had never fumbled my passes. Which was strange because the whole point of misdirection was to move the ball in unexpected ways, redirecting and changing targets. The other Seirin players and even the Miracles (barring Aomine) caught my passes on pure one-synapse reflex; but Kagami was always ready, like he _expected_ them.

He scratched his head. "Sometimes. Most of the time though, I just sort of… _guess_ where you are. It gets easier the more we play," he confessed. His red eyes slanted towards me, unsure.

He quickly looked away when I met his gaze. So I wasn't the only one that found it ridiculously easy to read his movements and predict them. He could predict mine too. It was reassuring in a way, but also kind of unnatural to have found a rhythm so soon. With Aomine, it had taken much longer.

We finished the rest of our meal in silence, each to our own thoughts.

* * *

Another day, another gruesome practice, another time I found myself lying on the ground half-dead. I focused on the sensation of the cool parquet against my cheek, ignoring everything else.

I seriously needed to do something about my stamina. Riko kept pointing it out to me but the practices left me so drained and sore I had to make a huge effort to drag myself to school the following day, let alone find the strength to go jogging.

I was vaguely aware of Hyuga talking about a team dinner. I could barely hear him over the complaints of sore muscles and pleads for water from the rest of the team. Hyuga's voice grew more and more frustrated, until he finally snapped. "I said listen, you worthless pieces of shit!"

Everyone shut up. I kept my eyes closed, thankful for the momentary peace.

"You will drag your ugly mugs to this restaurant where we are going to _bond_ as a team and _I swear if I hear you complaining one more time I'm going to snap you in half, you pathetic little worms._ "

Hyuga sometimes got like this. I had yet to see it happen while he played, but I had a feeling it would be legendary.

" _Well?"_

"Hai, Captain!"

Hyuga stalked off to talk to Riko while the rest of us continued to be terrified.

"But I'm still thirsty," Kagami grumbled, barely audible. "We should get a manager."

Izuki whispered something back. In fact, there suddenly seemed to be a lot of whispering around me. I frowned, still unwilling to open my eyes.

Someone cleared their throat. "Is there anything we can help you with?" Hyuga called, back to a pleasant tone.

Light, familiar footsteps echoed in the vastness of the gym. "Well, I'm just here to see my boyfriend," a sweet voice replied. My muscles tensed up before resignation washed over me. I decided I didn't have the strength to care about whatever _she_ was trying to pull today.

I had a fairly good idea anyway. I should have guessed this would happen when I baited her about Kagami.

"Your boyfriend?" It came in a higher pitch than normal, and Hyuga cleared his throat again. I pictured his eyes sweeping over the players lying around on the floor, wondering which of us miserable worms it was.

"Yes." She giggled, and the light steps approached me. A shadow passed over my eyelids as someone crouched over me. "Wakey-wakey, Tetsu-kun."

I cracked open one eye. Momoi's face was angelic. It didn't fool me for a moment. "Hi, Momoi-chan."

She giggled and placed a water bottle on my forehead. "I thought you might be thirsty."

I was, actually, so I took the bottle and sat up, grunting. As I chugged water down I could practically hear the sounds of jaws hitting the floor around us.

"What the hell, Kuroko?" Kagami roared. "Since when do you have a girlfriend?"

There were similar exclamations from other team members as well as heartbroken sobbing. "Hey, hey," Koganei approached Momoi, "what do you like about that shorty? Go out with me instead." He seemed physically unable to raise his eyes further than her chest, as if they had gotten trapped there.

She smiled cutely, bringing a delicate hand to her lips, seemingly unaware of the spike of testosterone in the room. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid Tetsu-kun is the only man for me."

Koganei turned and started wailing. "Why? Why does the pathetic invisible guy get the hot girlfriend with the rack? Why God, why?"

"Hey!" she protested. "My Tetsu-kun isn't pathetic. He's very handsome."

"She's not my girlfriend," I added as I painfully got to my feet.

"Aww, you're so mean," she pouted, grabbing my bicep and pressing her breasts against it. "After all the times I spent the night at your place."

Silence.

It wasn't _technically_ a lie, but... _Momoi, even I can read the subtext._

She was trying to give my team a collective aneurysm. It was the only possible explanation. It was sort of working, too, since Koganei had already passed out on the ground.

"Erm," Hyuga said intelligently. "Well, we were going out for dinner now but if you two have things to... discuss... Then I'm willing to let Kuroko go this time."

"Actually I was hoping to meet my boyfriend's new teammates!" she chirped, letting go of my arm to walk up to Kagami. "Your name is Kagami-kun, right? Tetsu-kun's told me all about you."

I hadn't told her anything, actually. Kagami looked sideways at me, then down at her. "Yeah. I'm Kagami."

"Nice to meet you! I'm Momoi Satsuki, but you can call me Satsuki-chan. I was the manager at Tetsu-kun's old school."

"Hm," was all he said.

She smiled at him for a second before whirling around and clapping her hands together in delight. "Well, it was good to meet you all. I look forward to seeing you play against our school someday! I'll wait for you outside, Tetsu-kun." And she skipped merrily down the gym. Everyone's eyes except Riko's were glued to the part of her anatomy covered by her skirt.

"Bye, Satsu-chan!" Koganei called out from the floor.

She giggled and turned to blow him a kiss before closing the door.

"What the hell," Kagami stated in the ensuing silence. "How did you... Never mind. Tell me when you break up with her."

I elbowed him in the side. "Get a hold of your hormones please, Kagami-kun."

His hand fell on top of my head and started squeezing. "Hm? Did you say anything, mister after-all-the-times-I-spent-the-night-at-your-place?"

Koganei had started crying again. "How? How can _Kuroko_ have a girlfriend and not me?"

"Alright! Enough!" Riko's shrill cry cut through the gym. She was blushing, and her hand clutched her clipboard so hard her knuckles were white. "She wasn't even that pretty! Right, Hyuga?"

"Right," he agreed, except the effect was somewhat dampened by his longing gaze towards the door.

"Boys," Riko cried in frustration before stomping off. I made a mental note to apologize to her later and explain Momoi's role in the Miracles and our plan.

When I met Momoi outside the gym, she was typing into her phone. Probably updating her information about Kagami. "Thank you for the water, Momoi-chan. But what was that about?" I asked. She didn't usually try to _actively_ attract men's attention unless she was after something.

She tucked her phone away and started circling me, looking me up and down and smiling slyly. "Now, that won't do, Tetsu- _kun._ You're too stiff. Cross your arms."

I obeyed, sighing.

"Try leaning against the wall, too."

I complied, causing her to squeal delightedly. "Perfect! Much more manly."

"You could have told me you were going to come," I observed, shifting my weight. I wasn't used to standing like this - I'd been taught to have good posture.

"I just wanted to meet your freshman. I promise I didn't spy on your practice."

"Was the girlfriend thing necessary?"

She giggled at that. "Well, Tetsu _-kun,_ you can't deny it was fun." Turning serious, she added, "It will also boost up your man-points." At my flat stare, she nudged me playfully. "Oh, come on. They're less likely to suspect anything if you have a girlfriend."

She had a point, I supposed. And it _had_ been somewhat amusing.

"You know, he's kind of handsome, in a roguish sort of way. Those dark, intense eyes..." she sighed in appreciation. "And the eyebrows add character."

She was talking about "my freshman" again. Kagami's face flashed through my mind, along with a few more images of his shirt riding up when he dunked. "I suppose," I admitted, feeling my cheeks getting warmer.

I'd been sort of desensitized to good looks after hanging around so many basketball hunks in middle school, and I was perfectly capable of ignoring it during a game. But outside practice there was no use denying it, I was a girl after all and our love of basketball and our taste in men were the few things Momoi and I had in common. "He's also straight." If the way he'd stared at her assets when she was leaving was any indication.

She hugged me in sympathy. "Awww, poor Tetsuko. I'm sorry. I wish I'd found a way that didn't sacrifice your love life."

I wiggled out of her hold. "It's okay." It wasn't like I'd have any chance at a love life anyway.

Momoi asked about me and how I was doing. We talked about basketball. I took a moment to assess my only female friend. She seemed happy enough. Clearly Touou Academy was treating her well. Now, face to face, I found the courage to ask the question I hadn't dared to over the phone. "How's Aomine-kun?"

Her eyes became guarded and she was careful in her reply, weighting her words. "Um, same as always. He's asked about you. Are you sure you don't want me to tell him?"

"I'm sure."

A silence settled between us, tenser and more awkward than usual. She fidgeted uncomfortably. There was something she wasn't telling me. Had she and Aomine finally started going out now that I wasn't around to get in the way? I trusted Momoi valued our friendship enough to tell me if something like that happened.

The rest of my team exited the gym. "Well, I don't actually want to keep you from your team dinner," Momoi said. "I'll see you later, Tetsu _-kun!_ " Her eyes softened as she looked back at me. "Call me."

"Bye, Momoi-chan. Be careful on the way home."

I sighed quietly and joined my team as they made their way to the bus stop.


	3. Chapter 3

_A.N.: Alright, well it seems I'm really going for this idea after all._

 _Fem!Kuroko is similar to Canon!Kuroko in pretty much everything. But because she has been blessed with female intuition, she's a bit more socially aware, as you've probably noticed. Yes she waxes poetry about basketball in her head because come on, I bet you a hundred bucks male!Kuroko does that too. He made a freaking light and shadow analogy. He has a poetic soul okay._

 _There are a few more subtle differences in their personalities (read: the presence of hormones) that will slowly become apparent, though I try to keep it close to the canon portrayal... or my perception of it at least._

 _I don't want the story to be just a rehash of canon scenes, so those will be glossed over to focus on off-screen and original stuff. The main genre is going to be romance. It might take a bit for it to kick off though._

 _Don't hesitate to tell me if there's something you don't like or you think can be improved on. Feel free to ask any questions._

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

* * *

Nothing very interesting happened until the next training. Riko made us run through a play that involved me setting a screen.

I was very good at setting screens. _Too good,_ in fact. So good that the defense _never_ saw it coming and smashed into me full-force and, due to my smaller mass, sent me flying. My middle school coach had decided it was too risky and only asked me to do it when it was absolutely necessary (which was never; the Miracles didn't need screens to overtake their marks).

I sighed as we set up the play, not really looking forwards to the experience. Thankfully, as Hyuga knew I was coming, he slowed down just before the collision and didn't hurt me too badly. I still staggered back a few steps, though.

He turned to get around me before he frowned. "Uh, Kuroko?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"Setting a screen," I stated, wondering why he looked so surprised.

He gestured to Kagami to pause the play and scratched his head. "Ah... Well, I meant, why are you setting it like that?"

Like what? "I don't know what you mean."

"Isn't that how girls screen?" Koganei piped in.

Oh.

I'd been standing with my arms crossed over the chest to protect the breasts - instead of like a boy, with arms straight and fists over the crotch.

 _Wonderful, Tetsuya. Brilliant._

I quickly dropped my arms. Panic froze my brain. My eyes flew to Riko, asking for help, but she seemed as wordless as I was.

"Well-" think of something _think of something-_ "the person who taught me was a girl. I guess it's just a habit." Please, let him swallow it.

Hyuga looked at me strangely. "Alright, as long as you're... comfortable... with it."

"Stop lazying about!" Riko yelled, effectively drawing the attention away from me. "Run the play."

All my air left me in a great whoosh of relief, and I took up my position again. I wondered if I should switch to how boys did it or if it was too late now. In any case, I had to be more careful - that had been too close. I spent the rest of the session trying to ignore Hyuga's strange looks and remember if any other of my basketball habits were things only girls did.

When practice ended and I felt strong enough to stand up from my usual spot on the floor, I went into the female changing room. The basketball club was the only one using the gym, so it was empty; and it wasn't like anyone was going to notice my absence. As always, I made sure the rest of my teammates were focused on a story Koganei was telling before slipping through the door, just in case.

The ghost thing, as Kagami liked to call it, was awfully convenient sometimes.

As I was buttoning up my uniform, the door opened and Riko popped her head in. She surveyed the room, shook her head, and left. Three seconds later she came back in, firmly closed the door behind her, squared her feet and _scanned_ the room. She crossed her arms when she finally noticed me. "You need to stop doing that, Kuroko."

"Doing what?" I questioned, bending down to tie my shoelaces.

"Disappearing. I was looking for you." I was about to protest that I didn't do it on purpose, but she waved the issue away with her hand. "I've decided it's best for you not to screen at all."

So she'd noticed. "I can do it if the team really needs it, but I prefer not to. I get sent flying."

"Right," she agreed. "You could get injured, it's dangerous." Changing the topic, she added, "The generation of miracles knows you're a girl, right?"

I nodded. "They do. If you're worried about them giving me away to disqualify us, they won't do that. They're not that kind of people." There was one good thing about their pride: it made them noble players. They'd never try to win a game through under-handed means, and they'd never break a promise.

"Good." She sighed. "Actually, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about. We need a plan."

"I'm not very good at coaching, Riko-san." My disastrous attempts to teach Kise were proof enough of that.

"I'm not talking about basketball. I'm talking about you." At my blank look, she emphasized, "Yeah, you. There isn't always going to be an empty room for you to change in. What are you going to do when we don't play at home? You might have a weak presence, but I think the guys would notice if a naked woman showered with them."

I hadn't thought about it. "I guess I'll just have to go home without showering." What a bother. I didn't fancy smelling on the train. Even if people didn't realize where the smell was coming from, it was still embarrassing.

She furrowed her eyebrows in thought. "Some gyms have disabled toilets that lock on the inside; you can use that while I think of a more permanent solution."

"Thanks, but you don't have to-"

"Nonsense, Kuroko! You're one of my boys now, and I need to make sure it stays that way. I can't let you be discovered." She snaked her arm around my waist. "Plus, as the only two girls, we have to look out for each other, right?"

I didn't point out that she'd just contradicted herself about my gender, twice. "Okay."

"Be more enthusiastic." When I didn't reply, she pinched my side.

I yelped. "Yes, Sir!"

* * *

When, at the following practice, Riko arrived to the gym literally _skipping_ from joy, I couldn't help but suspect that something was up.

"I've organized a practice match," she announced. "Against Kaijou High."

Ah. Kise.

So this was why she'd asked about them in the changing room.

Kise, the number three player of the Generation of Miracles. Traditionally, this position in basketball belonged to an all-rounder – meaning the guy who was a decent shooter, but not as good as the shooting guard; the guy who could post up, but wasn't as big as a number four or five; the guy who could dribble, but wasn't as fast as the point guard.

Kise was a special case, though. It wasn't so much that he was a number three – it was more like he was comfortable playing in any position, and was extremely powerful and dangerous regardless of where he played. To make matters worse, he really was a genius, able to dissect, copy and incorporate any play he saw into his arsenal, often using his considerable speed and strength to perform it better and faster than the source. He was very proud of this ability and would show it off as often as he could.

I had no doubt that, against Kagami, he would choose to play as a four, the power forward – to prove he could beat Seirin's ace at his own game.

I eyed Kagami. He was grinning wildly, his body coiled in anticipation and adrenalin, burning at the prospect of facing one of the Miracles. I couldn't help looking forwards to it, too. It was sooner than I'd expected, but we would finally have an answer as to how we measured against my old teammates. Riko explained that the game was scheduled to next Thursday, so we had a week to prepare.

Halfway through that training session, a commotion started outside the gym. I ignored it. Coach would take care of it.

Instead, I continued with my practice, passing the ball to the wall, catching it with one hand when it bounced back, spinning to pass it to the wall again – a continuous passing exercise where the objective was to keep the ball in your hands for as little time as possible. Riko, after seeing me perform it for the first time, had declared it was "too easy" for me and painted circles in the wall, so now I had specific targets to send the ball to. As I found my rhythm, my catches and releases became a single, fluid movement – behind the back, hitting the lowest target, between the legs, hitting the target on the left, over the shoulder, lowest target, quick spin, right target.

 _Faster._ The ball touched my fingers for a fraction of a second and it was gone again.

 _Faster._ I didn't limit myself to open-palm passes – I used my fists and elbows to punch it back, increasing the pace _._ It was barely an orange blur between the wall and me now.

 _Faster._ The sounds of collision of the sphere against the flat surface were a continuous, sustained thrum.

It was an extremely high-intensity exercise, my feet barely touching the ground, my body spinning and twisting to redirect my own passes, straining to keep up with the ball's speed. I was sweating, panting, focused so much on what I was doing I failed to notice a tall figure approaching and stopping a few paces behind me to watch.

 _Faster._ It was too much, and the ball slipped past my fingers, flying towards my spectator's face.

Amazingly, he reacted in time, his hand reaching up to catch it before it smashed his nose. "Impressive as always, Kurokocchi!" he exclaimed, lowering it, revealing the face of Kise Ryouta in all his blonde-haired, golden-eyed glory.

I bent over, gasping from the effort of the ordeal. I was aware that the rest of Seirin had also been watching from further back, but the bulk of my attention was on Kise. As my heart rate slowed and air filled my lungs again I straightened. For a moment our gazes met, his eyes clear and unwavering.

He was taller, I noticed. His face had sharpened, and his eyelashes, if possible, seemed even longer. A faint smile floated on his lips. He was as pretty as ever, and a pang of nostalgia shot through me.

"It has been a while," I greeted.

He dropped the ball and took two quick steps towards me, scooping me up in a hug, not seeming to mind that I would get sweat all over his suit. It looked like a good suit too – smelled new. "I'm so happy to see you!"

My stomach twisted. "Put me down."

He ignored me, mumbling incoherently into my neck. I shot a pleading look to Riko but she didn't seem inclined to intervene – she was drawing too much entertainment from this. I sighed, resigning myself to another minute or so of glomping until he decided to let me go, trying to ignore the feeling of his breath on my neck or the way my teammates were staring.

The last time I'd been with Kise outside the court, he'd told a funny joke and paid for my vanilla shake.

The last time I'd been with Kise on the court it had been an official game. He'd been chatting with Aomine while dangling the ball in front of his defender, bouncing it behind his back just as the poor boy reached for it, and dangling it in his face again. He hadn't even been trying to score.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

Out of all the Miracles, Kise was the one I felt the most conflicted about, because outside basketball, he was nice and charming and a caring person once you stripped away the layer of arrogance. The way he behaved on the court was a product of ignorance and immaturity rather than any real malice on his part. But it was no excuse, and I would crush him to the ground and make him _cry_ if that was what it took to make him see it.

"Why are you here?" I asked, trying not to betray how torn I felt.

"Awww, so cold. Don't pretend you didn't miss me," he whined.

I didn't bother with a reply, finally managing to wriggle out of his grasp. He smiled down at me and then frowned, distracted by the basketball clothes I was wearing. "I didn't know you were actually in the team. You said you wouldn't be allowed-"

I shot him a warning look.

He may act oblivious at times, but he wasn't _completely_ stupid. He took in my new haircut, my slight tan, my flattened chest. His eyes widened in shock, and he stepped back. "Kurokocchi? Did you-" I put a finger to my lips, and his mouth shut with an audible click. He looked around at our audience, realization slowly dawning on him, before his head whipped back towards me. "You mean, they think you're-" I kicked him in the shin. "Ow!" he complained.

I was grateful when Kagami interrupted to challenge him to a one-on-one.

And I learned that Kise had improved so much he seemed like a completely different person.

He dunked over Kagami and turned back to me, one-on-one already forgotten. His eyes raked me up and down. "I can't believe you really went for it," he snickered. "How crafty of you."

I nodded. "Momoi's idea."

He remained silent as he observed me, absorbing the concept of me as a male. Then he grinned and went to scoop me up in a hug again, but I neatly sidestepped him this time. "Lay off."

"I can't help myself. You're just too cute, Kurokocchi!" His gaze landed on Kagami, who was still on the floor, before he turned serious. "What I don't understand is what you're doing with this bunch. Why don't you transfer to Kaijou?"

To say I wasn't surprised by the offer would be a lie, and by the looks of it the rest of Seirin hadn't expected it either. "Hey, wait a minute-" Riko protested.

Kise leaned closer, his expression earnest. "I'm being honest, I... respect you a lot. I want to play basketball with you again. You're just wasting your talent in this place." He smiled his perfect model smile. He really must have been serious - he was laying on all the charm. "Come on, what do you say?"

Ah, Kise. Only you can praise me _and_ insult every other person present in the same sentence without even realizing it. I miss you too, but you still don't understand. I patted his cheek, not breaking eye contact. "I'm honored that you think of me that way, but I must refuse."

His liquid yellow eyes turned hard like fossilized amber. He straightened. "I don't understand." An edge of frustration crept into his voice. "Wasn't winning the most important thing? Why didn't you go to a stronger school?"

 _Winning, the most important thing?_ _For me, it never was._ I was a bit disappointed. I'd been convinced that Kise knew me better than that. Hadn't he noticed how unhappy I'd been in Teiko? Hadn't he been listening the multiple times I'd expressed my doubts about our play? Had he really been so centered on himself that he'd been so completely blind to everything that went on around him?

If he hadn't heard it then, I would just make him listen now. I gestured to our ace. "Seirin _is_ strong. And I made a promise to Kagami. We're going to beat you and the other Miracles and become number one."

He didn't take this very well. It was in the tight jaw, the tension in his fists and the fire in his eyes. He shot a venomous look to Kagami. " _Him?"_ The single word dripped with poison, the sneer on his face distorting his pretty features. "You're joking."

Kagami chuckled, picking himself up. "Don't be so cocky. We will take you down."

Kise curled his lip in disgust.

"I've never been good at jokes," I explained. "I'm serious." _I'm dead serious._

Kise's eyes went back and forth between my light and me, still angry; I willed him to hear the challenge, to not dismiss it, to acknowledge the threat we posed. I took a step forwards. "Kise…"

He regained his composure. "I'll show you how wrong you are," he reasoned calmly. "This guy can't beat me, Kurokocchi. I'll make you see that, and then you'll have no choice but to join me." He picked up his discarded jacket. "Till then..." He winked at me, smirking. "Don't miss me too much."

I sighed as he turned and left the gym, the sound of the door shutting behind him resonating in the silence.

"Arrogant brat," Hyuga commented.

Riko nodded and crossed her arms.

Koganei made a thoughtful sound. "He was amazing, though," he suggested, referring to the one-on-one against Kagami. "He really is a beast."

Kagami chuckled to himself and wiped his forehead. I stared at the closed door, his words running through my mind.

 _That's your error, Kise. You, and the rest of the Miracles, forget that basketball is a team sport. Oh, you know that other people are in the court with you, but you don't understand what it means._

 _It's not Kagami you have to beat, it's_ Seirin _._

* * *

I woke up on the morning of the game feeling determined. I slipped my undershirt on, then the basketball jersey over it, and the shorts – normally meant to reach the knee, but so long on me they brushed my calves. It was my first time wearing the official Seirin kit. I eyed Tetsuya in the mirror to check that he looked appropriately manly. The jersey made my shoulders seem wider, and the black wristbands added some masculinity. I was optimistic. I could pass for a guy. Kind of.

I wasn't surprised by the state-of-the-art facilities at Kaijou. It was a rich private school, dedicated to its athletes – the same as Teiko, really. Kagami showed up with red eyes, which was wasn't unexpected either. He'd been too excited about the game to sleep, like a little kid.

Kise met us outside the gym. He ignored the rest of the team, making a beeline for me as soon as he saw me. The generation of miracles had gotten used to my weak presence – as long as I didn't use misdirection, they had no trouble spotting me most of the time.

"Kurokocchi!" He called, making to catch me into yet another hug, which I barely managed to sidestep. "Ever since you turned down my offer, I've been crying myself to sleep every night." Despite his words, there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Kise," I warned, because I recognized that look.

He ignored it and leaned closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "You know, no girl has ever rejected me before."

One more thing about Kise: he was a tremendous flirt. Sometimes I thought that if I stuck a pair of breasts on a tree he might flirt with it. It got worse in the last year of middle school, after he started modelling and it became a natural, permanent part of his personality.

I used to find some amusement in stonewalling him, but now really wasn't the time. "Could you please start taking this seriously," I requested, stepping back.

His smile widened into a devilish smirk before he straightened and walked to the front of the group, pausing when he passed Kagami. "I must admit, I'm anticipating this game. I don't really care about the whole generation of miracles thing but… you just piss me off, Kagami-kun." He tilted his head, the smirk still on his lips. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to _crush_ you with everything I have."

For most people, it was hard to distinguish when Kise was being serious and when he was fooling around. I had known him for long enough that I was able to tell the difference; right now, he meant every word.

For me, it was a relief. For Kagami it was the perfect encouragement; he thrived in adversity. He met Kise's smile with a feral grin of his own. "Bring it on _._ "

* * *

I learned three things in that game.

Number one: Kaijou's coach was an idiot. Initially, he made us play in one of the smaller transverse courts – since he intended to use the other half of the gym for regular practice. He also refused to put Kise on, explaining that we wouldn't even be a challenge for his other regulars. Kagami quickly disabused him of that notion by dunking with such force he broke the hoop within the first five seconds of the game. It was a very satisfying moment.

The obese looked like he was about to have a heart attack, so I apologized for breaking the hoop. From that point on we played in the big court, and Kise came on.

Number two: Kagami's one-track mind was going to be a problem. As he became more and more obsessed by his dunking contest with my old teammate, he lost track of the larger picture, failed to see the wider implications in the game. He was a passionate, reckless, give-one-hundred-and-ten kind of guy. Which was usually one of his greatest strengths, but in this game a weakness, since Kise responded to everything Kagami threw at him with double the power, narrowing Kagami's focus to the point he forgot to look for other options and driving him down a spiral of frustration.

I asked our Captain for a time-out. Kagami needed to cool off. Also, I was exhausted. We'd only played five minutes, but it was a really fast-paced game and I wasn't the fittest of players.

Thirdly: Kise was more formidable than I remembered him. In the past week he'd completely incorporated the moves Kagami had used on him in their one-on-one, and even during the game, he copied new techniques and performed them flawlessly immediately afterwards. But there was one thing Kise couldn't copy: teamwork – because he was only one person, and he played independently from the rest of his team. Sure, he passed the ball; but the idea that he would need anyone's _help_ to score was foreign to him. In defense as well – he acted so surprised when my new light and I teamed up to steal the ball from him.

In a way, _I_ was Kise's only weakness – the invisible sixth man that specialized in cooperation plays.

He looked so confused and off-balance that I decided to explain it. "You're strong, Kise. I'm so weak I can't even shoot, and Kagami doesn't measure up to you, but… If we work together, we do stand a fighting chance."

I don't remember much else of the game, because after that, Kise and I collided and I was sent flying, my head hitting the ground hard. I tried to get back up, but my vision filled with grey and I felt myself fall again – to be barely caught by someone behind me. "Kuroko? Are you alright?" Kagami asked. I had to close my left eye as blood started trickling down from my hairline.

"I do feel a little bit light-headed."

"Bring him over here, Kagami, I've got bandages," Riko's voice reached my ears. "Do you have a first-aid specialist?"

I was told to lie down on the bench and not move while a man came to look at my head. "It doesn't seem to be serious, but you should take him to hospital, today, if you can." Once they'd established I wasn't in mortal danger, they bandaged my head, subbed me out for Koganei, and the game resumed.

As I lay down on the bench looking at the ceiling I blocked out the sounds of basketball and concentrated on breathing. Already my vision was clearing – it had only been the shock of the impact, mixed with the exhaustion.

When a while later I heard Riko mutter, "If only Kuroko could play…" I got up and shuffled over to the court.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed. "You can't play!"

"But you said…"

"I didn't mean it! Go lie back down."

I glanced at the scoreboard. 68-74 to Kaijou. "If you think I can change anything by going out there, then please. Besides, I promised to be Kagami-kun's shadow." _I can't do that while sitting on the bench._

Riko bit her lip, conflict in her eyes. On the one hand, it would be stupid to risk a player's health in a practice game where our league standings weren't at stake. On the other hand, we wanted this win so much – and for me, beating Kise was more important than beating a random team at Interhigh. I think the same applied to the rest of Seirin – after being so blatantly underestimated and insulted when we first arrived, we just couldn't let them win. It was about our pride as a team.

"Fine," she relented. "But if I suspect the slightest bit of trouble, I'm pulling you out."

I jogged on the court, testing my ability to stay upright. Still a bit light-headed, but I didn't think I would faint. Kagami shot me a look as I took up my position next to him.

His eyes rested on the bandage for a moment.

"Let's go," he finally said.

"Yeah."

* * *

 _A.N. Well, I've pretty much decided on the endgame of this fic, but any preferences? (I mean pairing-wise)_


	4. Chapter 4

_A.N.: Like I said, pairings are pretty much decided already, but it was still interesting to hear what everyone thought._

 _I really don't like rehashing canon but sometimes I have to, sorry._

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

* * *

The thing about Kise was, he'd never once in his wildest dreams thought there was a chance he would lose. He'd honestly been convinced we couldn't beat him (but who could really blame him?)

The final scoreboard read: Seirin – 100; 98 – Kaijou.

I'd never really enjoyed games where my team's score reached the triple digits. Usually, it was accompanied by the opposition's failure to make it to ten. This time, though, I was inordinately proud. This was the kind of victory I'd been looking for; the kind of victory I had lost playing with Teiko. I basked in the feeling, watching as my team celebrated; Kagami in particular overflowed with jubilation.

It felt amazing.

I also watched Kise as he brought a hand to his face, surprised by his own tears. I couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. It had been my intention to hurt him, but… I wished there'd been any other way. I hoped his pain wouldn't be for nothing. I hoped he understood what I'd been meaning to show him, just a little, or at least taken the first step towards that understanding.

He covered his eyes with his hand and his mouth twisted in a grimace. As much as I ached to walk over to him and comfort him, it wasn't my place anymore. His captain knocked him upside the head and told him to shut up, suck it up, and add the word revenge to his dictionary.

A long, muscled arm slung over my shoulders. "We won, eh Kuroko?" Kagami grinned. "You're not completely useless after all, kid."

"We're the same age."

"But you're so short."

"Everyone's short compared to you, Kagami." I looked up to find Kise staring at us, an odd expression on his face. He noticed me looking and averted his eyes, turning to walk away. I wanted to follow him – some part of me, though, realized that he needed this time alone. So I turned back to my ecstatic team and floated for a bit on the cloud of happiness.

* * *

We went to the hospital to check that my injury wasn't serious (it wasn't). After that, Riko dragged us to an all-you-can-eat steak place. I was the first to leave, wanting some time to myself to do my own reflection on the game; I was surprised to find Kise waiting for me at the exit.

"Hi."

"Hi."

He looked – well, he was smiling, but it was a little bit broken. I returned the smile, trying to be encouraging.

His eyes caught on the bandage around my head and he took a hesitant step closer. His hand reached up as if to touch it, but he stopped midway. He swallowed. "I'm sorry about that. I'd never – I didn't mean to hurt you, Kurokocchi." There was so much guilt in his amber eyes.

I was reassured by it in a way. Deep down, he was still the same person I'd been friends with up until the last year of middle school. "I know you didn't. You don't have to apologize."

His hand made the rest of the trajectory, his knuckles grazing the bandage just above my ear. I was surprised by the tenderness of the gesture. "I'll take you to the hospital."

"My team already did that."

"Your team… Right." He looked away.

I wanted to tell him that it was alright, that he really was an amazing player, but his pride had taken a rough enough beating as it was. The person that had defeated him trying to comfort him would just injure it further. He noticed I'd noticed and drew himself up, covering his uncertainty with the ever-present confident smile. "Let's go for a walk?"

He was silent while we walked, his hands in his pockets and his gaze unfocused. I could sense he had something to say, and sure enough, when we reached a bench, he stopped and plopped down on it dramatically. "Ah, Kurokocchi," he sighed, seeming to deflate. "You broke my heart a little." He said it in his usual teasing manner, but there was a bitter ring of truth to the words.

"Sorry." I sat next to him and patted the top of his head. "You'll bounce back."

He glanced sideways at me. "You could do something to make me happy."

"What?"

"Go out with me." He winked.

I stared at him blankly. "I'm leaving," I stated, getting up from the bench.

"No! Why?"

"If you can flirt, then you're fine."

"Hang on," he said, grabbing my wrist. I turned back and stared at him expectantly. "There's something I wanted to ask you. Why did you disappear after the Championship game?"

I pondered my answer. How could I explain it without it turning into some sort of fight? Teiko had won; yes. But it hadn't been _victory._ We had bastardized and distorted everything basketball was supposed to be until it was unrecognizable, corrupt, disgusting – to the point I'd believed I'd never be able to love the sport again. I explained this to him the best I could.

He didn't seem very convinced, but at least now he was listening.

Only thanks to Seirin had I been able to enjoy playing again. "That's why I was so impressed by Kagami. He loves basketball, and he takes it more seriously than anyone."

Kise's mouth tightened at the mention of Kagami. "If the reason you like him so much is his attitude, then the two of you will eventually part ways." I stared, surprised. His eyes narrowed. "If, like you say, he has the potential to reach our level, at that point he's bound to grow apart from the rest of his team. He'll become a different person."

I hadn't been expecting the hostility. Although I knew it must have been leftover frustration from his loss and he didn't really mean to hurt, the words struck a little bit too close to home. Kise was describing what had happened to him and to the rest of the Miracles back in Teiko. I'd convinced myself Kagami would be different from them _,_ but deep down the fear was still there. Because what guarantees did I have? How could I know that my new light wouldn't also become some arrogant, conceited asshole just like the rest of them? That he wouldn't stop trusting me just like they had?

None. I had no way of knowing.

A heavy hand slapped me on the shoulder so hard I nearly fell over. I turned, startled, to find the very topic of our conversation looming behind me. "Kuroko, you bastard! Don't disappear when you have a head injury. We've been looking all over for you!" He turned to Kise, his eyes narrowing. His body language was defensive, he placed himself almost like a shield between me and him. It was obvious he'd been listening. "Yo. Stop kidnapping our players."

Kise smirked. "I can't have a talk with Kurokocchi?"

My attention drifted away from their glaring contest as some thugs walked into the nearby court. There were five of them, and they used their numbers to try to bully the middle schoolers playing there into leaving. I slipped away from my teammates current and former, and walked into the midst of the confrontation. Since I was quite sure I wouldn't be noticed unless I did something drastic, I plucked the ball from a distracted student's hands and spun it so close to thug A's face it burned his nose. "It's unfair no matter how you look at it. And violence is bad."

The ruffian flinched away, glowering. He grabbed the front of my jacket. "What do you think you're doing, punk?"

Thug B took in my small stature and slight build and smiled in anticipation, having identified a potential new target for bullying. "I agree, violence is bad. Why don't we settle this with basketball?"

Kise and Kagami walked up behind me, with annoyed, hostile expressions on their faces. I could feel an aggressive vibe radiating off them even without turning to look. "Mind if we join in?"

The thugs gulped.

Playing with them both at the same time wasn't as strange as I thought it would be. Kise was a flexible and adaptable player; it wasn't too hard to incorporate him into the pattern I had with Kagami. And he was a surprisingly good sport, despite his recent loss against us. He didn't hog the ball or try to sabotage Kagami – I half-expected the two of them to turn the game into some sort of competition, but they didn't. We just… played.

It was fun.

It was also instant death for the thugs. I almost felt sorry for them.

Kagami had a go at me afterwards. I was injured. I was weak. Was I stupid? What if it had turned into a fight? Did I think I could take them by myself?

"No, I would have been one-hundred-percent beaten up." I rolled up my sleeves, showing my biceps. "Look at these guns."

Kagami was on the point of having an aneurism. "You don't have any!"

Kise took a step forwards. "He has a point, Kurokocchi. You're a g- I mean, you can't just jump into those sorts of situations. Promise to be more careful."

"I promise," I replied solemnly.

Kagami hit me on the head again. "That doesn't cut it! You need to think of the consequences!"

"Kagami-kun, if you're so concerned about my well-being, you could at least stop hitting the injured person."

He grabbed me in a chokehold and started twisting his fist into my hair. "Why you little bastard…"

Kise stared silently at our messing around. He made to grab his bags. "I should get home." Before he left, he smiled at me – it was a strange smile, happy and sad at the same time. "I'm glad that I got to play with you after all, Kurokocchi."

I watched him go, an odd feeling in my chest. "Me too," I whispered, but I don't think he heard me.

* * *

The way Riko pushed us in training from that point on made our earlier practices seem like a game of kiddie tag.

Our first preliminary match was in three weeks. That meant nine team training sessions, plus the recovery sessions on the weekends, before we played our first official league game. Riko concentrated on conditioning, since it was a big difference between Seirin and the higher-level teams. We had good fundamentals and good team chemistry; but we were missing the speed, strength and stamina that would allow us to play at our fullest during the whole forty minutes. It had been a problem against Kise's team, and apparently Coach wasn't going to allow this weakness of ours to persist.

Needless to say, it was hell for me. Physicality wasn't my strong suit – and certainly, I didn't compare to the guys. One of the reasons misdirection ran out so soon during games was because _I_ didn't have the energy to keep it up; it wasn't just about the other team getting used to it. If I'd been fitter, I could probably hold up for more than a dozen minutes.

I knew this, but my attempts to train my stamina had never yielded results. I had to use misdirection a few times so that Riko wouldn't realize that I collapsed before the tenth push-up. It wasn't that I didn't _try –_ I put in more effort than anyone else – but I just wasn't strong enough. I had literally no muscles whatsoever. I was, in fact, barely fitter than my classmates who didn't play sports.

I didn't _like_ it. No one likes being weak. But it seemed my body just wasn't built that way. There were times when I couldn't handle the strain, and I had no choice but to stop.

It was naïve of me to think I could pull it off for the whole three weeks, though. On the third training, Riko singled me out. "I said _twenty_ push-ups, Kuroko," she ordered, planting her foot on my back.

"I'm… trying…" I grunted. _Eight._ It was already better than on the first training – I'd only been able to manage seven. But the strain was too much. My arms were trembling, I couldn't hold myself up. I collapsed onto the floor.

" _Twenty,_ Kuroko. You need twelve more."

Everyone else had already finished theirs and watched on silently as I struggled through my ninth push-up. Riko remained imperturbable. Why was she doing this? Wasn't her dad a sports trainer? Didn't she know how difficult this was for a girl?

I managed three more before I fell with a gasp. Sweat rolled down my nose. My arms felt like they were on fire. We'd already done nearly two hours of intense training today – I was exhausted. Riko's foot pressed harder against my back. "Keep going."

I tried to push myself up for the thirteenth, but couldn't manage it. "Riko-chan, I…"

"I thought I made myself clear. If you want to play with this team, you won't get any special treatment. _Keep going."_

I clenched my teeth. Did she have to do this in front of the whole team? I didn't look up, afraid to see their expressions – they must have thought I was so weak. Especially Kagami – he'd done his push ups one-handed. Riko was humiliating me on purpose, she was taking my weakness and tearing it out of my chest and dangling it in the open for everyone to see.

 _I'd like to see you do twenty,_ I thought bitterly at the foot planted on my back. I breathed in. One at a time. I'd treat every push up like it was the last. I could do this. "Gah," I gasped as I finished the thirteenth.

 _Come on, Tetsuya_. I didn't manage to straighten my arms for the fourteenth before I kissed the floor again. "I'm not counting that. Seven more." The shame burned in my eyes and closed my throat.

The Captain's white sneakers took a step forwards. "Riko…"

"Stay out of it, Hyuga. He can take it. Come on, Kuroko. You want to beat the Miracles, don't you? Even Koganei managed twenty."

"Hey," the gangly second-year protested.

I don't know how I managed the fourteenth and fifteenth. I couldn't even feel my arms anymore. I shut my eyes tightly, but I couldn't prevent the tears from leaking out. It was deathly silent in the gym except for my breathless, strangled pants.

"Pathetic. Are you actually taking this seriously?"

"Nguh," I sobbed. _Sixteen._ This was it. I couldn't do any more. My muscles had been burning before I started the pushups – now I just couldn't feel them. Not four more times.

Riko took her foot off and crouched down next to my head, speaking softly. "There are many _girls_ who can do this. Come on, Kuroko. I know you can."

I couldn't – I just couldn't – do the seventeenth. It hurt too much. "P-please…"

A shadow dropped down directly opposite me. I lifted my head; Kagami was in the push up position, his head tilted up so he was also looking at me. I didn't even care that he would see me crying at this point. "Come on, weak-o. With me. Seventeen." He held my gaze as he bent his arms and lowered himself to the floor. When he pushed himself back up, my body followed.

The exhaustion had completely overtaken me. The fire in my arms was so painful I couldn't even think. Nothing existed beyond it – only Kagami's low, rumbling voice. At some point even that ceased to exist and then all I had left were his eyes – dark and deep and unreadable, my whole universe was painted in those red hues.

His lips formed the word _twenty_ and I crumbled.

My cheek rested against the floor, which was wet with my tears and sweat. I fought to get air back into my lungs, something to take away the burning shudders wrecking through my whole body. For a moment nobody said anything. My mind was a blank.

Then Riko's gentle hand on my hair. "Well done, Kuroko."

"Yeah! That was _on point_ , Kuroko!" Izuki praised.

"You did great," Hyuga said.

"You inspired me! I'm going to work extra hard!" Koganei proclaimed.

"Oh?" Riko straightened from her crouched position, a dangerous note in her voice. "You mean you've been holding back?"

"N-no- that's not what I meant!"

I managed to roll myself onto my back and cover my face with my forearm as my sobs calmed down and the tightness around my chest eased somewhat. My arms _hurt_ so much it felt like someone had torn them off. Pain and despair were gradually replaced by embarrassment and shame – but that didn't feel any better. I'd never been that helpless or humiliated before. How could I have any pride after this? I'd cried in front of everyone. I'd _begged._ I was so _weak,_ and Riko couldn't have picked a more degrading way to point it out. I'd gotten the message, alright. The whole of Seirin had. I was _weak._

"Hey," someone nudged my foot. I spread my fingers to see Kagami standing over me, impossibly huge from this angle. His expression was serious. "You did well. You should be proud."

"Shut up," I muttered, closing my fingers as another tear leaked from my eye. Right now I didn't want to see anyone. I stumbled upright and dragged myself to the girl's changing room.

Riko came in a few minutes later. She brought a towel and a bottle of water which she handed me, looking apologetic. "Kuroko, you really did great." She also brought some kind of cooling strips that she started applying to my arms, easing the pain somewhat.

"No, I didn't," I replied evenly. I tried to lift the water to my lips, but found I didn't have the strength. I put it down. "You said you were going to help me."

She could have – she could have done it when no one was around, or warned me.

She sat down next to me, using the towel to wipe the sweat on my face. "I _was_ helping you. As a girl you'll always find it harder than everyone else, but that's no excuse to give up. If you're serious about the Miracles, then you _need_ to get fitter. I'm not asking you to turn into a muscle-man, but you have to be able to keep up." She got out a plastic cup and poured some water on it before handing it to me. "It'll be hard, but not impossible, Kuroko. I know what I'm talking about: my dad trains female athletes too."

I accepted the cup. It was easier to hold than the bottle and I was able to drink it this time. I tried to think objectively about what she'd said.

I still felt angry and humiliated. I still thought it had been unnecessary and pointlessly cruel. But – perhaps no other method would have worked. At least now I knew that I never wanted to feel like this ever again.

I couldn't just rely on observation and a fast reaction time. Basketball was a _sport._ I had to be minimally fit to play it. Perhaps I disagreed with Riko's methods, but she _had_ warned me she wouldn't make exceptions and she'd repeatedly asked me to train my stamina and I hadn't taken her seriously. "I'll try," I promised.

She smiled. "Good. You and Kagami-kun will have a separate regimen from the rest of the team, starting next session." She handed me a sheet. "Here is yours. I probably won't be around to supervise all the time, but don't slack off. Also, I want you to work on long passes in your free time."

I latched on to the new topic of conversation to take my mind off what I'd just gone through. "Long passes?"

"Seirin is a run-and-gun team. We need passes that can get the ball from one end of the court to the other as quickly as possible. So far all I've seen you do are short, quick passes – which are great, but I feel like the team would benefit from a long pass in your arsenal."

I nodded. "The longest I can pass right now, reliably, is about half the length of the court."

She seemed surprised. "Really? That's actually pretty good already. Remember to show me next practice. For now, go home and get some rest." She stood up to leave, turning back just before she reached the door, and smiled. "You're a very talented player, Kuroko-kun. You just have some things to work on, like everyone else."

 _You just have some things to work on, like everyone else._

I'd been so stupid. For the last year of middle school, I'd sort of assumed that I'd plateaued – but of course I still had room for improvement. It was ridiculous to think that Kagami was the only one in the team with potential. Riko believed I could go further, become even better at what I did, and she was right. No basketball player truly stopped growing – even in the professional league. The Miracles, as Kise had proven, had certainly continued growing.

I'd get better. I definitely would.

* * *

"Hah," Kagami panted. "Why are you doing this again?"

I pointed to the piece of paper I was holding. "It says it on my regimen. Look: _12:00 to 12:15._ _Sit on Kagami while he does pushups. He's supposed to do two sets of thirty, make sure he doesn't slack off!_ She also added a winking face."

"That woman… Is… Hah… Pure evil…"

It was Sunday and, following our schedules, we were working out at Riko's gym. Or rather, Kagami was working out. I was doing my normal recovery and flexibility exercises. At the moment I was on a break, and as per the instructions, I sat on Kagami's back. It was wide enough that I was able to sit cross-legged.

"Kuroko… You're way… too heavy… You need to… stop… eating junk food… Shit…"

"The person who wolfs down twenty burgers a day shouldn't criticize," I commented neutrally, unperturbed by the way my seat moved up and down in rhythm with his speech. "And don't call other people fat. It's rude."

"Stupid… Hah… Obese…"

I ignored his grumbles and pants and went back to studying our schedules. After this, I had a light ten minute jog, some stretching, and I was done for the day. Kagami had a session with one of the gym staff that specialized in jumping and running technique.

I finished earlier than him and went to watch him get coached on how to jump properly by a short but very muscled man named Hue. He was the definition of manly, complete with the chest hair, the mustache and the deep, growling voice. Despite the tough appearance, he was perfectly friendly. When he was done with Kagami I approached him.

"Excuse me, I was wondering…"

He startled. "Hah? Who're you?"

"My name is Kuroko Tetsuya. I've been sitting on that bench watching the whole time," I explained. In the background, Kagami sniggered.

"Well? What do you want?"

I bowed respectfully. "I was hoping that you could give me some advice on how to throw a moderately heavy object like a basketball as far away as possible."

It is well known in basketball that a pass travels much faster than any player sprinting. Which is why successful fast-breaks hinge on the ability to make very long, fast passes down the court before the defense has time to get back and guard the basket. Typically, teams accomplish this in two or three passes from the base line.

My limit for making good, straight passes was about half a court. Any longer, and I had to lob the ball, and the pass lost its speed and power. Riko said half a court was good enough – but while two passes would make a _good_ fast break, the _ideal_ fast break would necessitate a single pass all the way from the baseline to the opposite basket – a feat that, as far as I knew, hadn't been accomplished before, at least not in Japanese high school basketball.

If, like Riko said, Seirin was to be a run-and-gun team, _good_ wasn't enough. We had to be the _best_ run-and-gun team. So. It fell on me, the passing specialist, to figure out a way to make a pass long enough that it could reach all the way across the court.

I'd already given it a try – but even when I took my time and used a baseball pass, I couldn't reach, and besides the ball lobbed and took way too much time to cross the court.

Hence my current position. If anyone would know anything about the proper technique to throw objects, Hue was it. He looked like he lifted fridges as a hobby.

He furrowed his thick eyebrow and made a contemplating sound. "I see. I have some free time, so I can try to help you."

I bowed again. "Thank you."

We walked down to the gym's indoors court which was currently being used by a primary school class but they gave us some space off to the side. Kagami tagged along, curious. "Show me what you can do," Hue requested.

He made me perform the baseball pass many times, making small adjustments to my posture and technique each time. After some more throws Hue finally sentenced, "I'm sorry, kid, but you just don't have the upper body strength to throw the ball that far." The disappointment must have shown on my face, because he quickly added, "But I think there might be another way. Do you know what discus throw is?"

"No."

"My break is over, so I don't have time to teach you, but you should research it. Good luck."

Discus throw was interesting. The athletes built up momentum by spinning in place, throwing the discus twice as far.

* * *

 **The Maji Burger conversations, part three**

Two more weeks of hell and it was the day before our first Interhigh preliminaries game. Kagami and I, as always, had gone to Maji's after training. He was so pumped up he ate twice as many burgers than usual. "Slow down, Kagami-kun, you're going to get sick."

"I need energy for tomorrow's game," he growled, putting a whole burger in his mouth.

"And make sure you get some sleep tonight."

"What are you, my mother?"

I slurped on my shake and leaned back, content. When he was done I stated, "Let's go to the outdoors court. I want to show you my new pass."

I stood on the baseline and instructed him to go to the other side of the court. He jogged backwards to the half-court line.

"Farther."

He jogged backwards to the top of the key.

"Farther."

Raising an eyebrow in disbelief, he stepped behind the opposite baseline. I breathed in, dug my front foot in, pushed off and spun, feeling as the momentum built up in the arm holding the ball, and, just when I couldn't take it anymore, when it felt like my shoulder was going to dislocate, I let it fly.

It soared across the court like a cannonball, hitting Kagami square in the stomach.

"Shit, Kuroko," he grunted, before straightening and smirking at me. "That's one hell of a pass."

I grinned, just a little bit proud. The push-ups had probably helped – but as Hue said, my upper body strength wasn't enough to accomplish that feat alone. Even Kagami probably wouldn't be able to do it with a normal baseball pass. The key to this pass was the momentum from spinning and the timing of the release.

He lobbed the ball back to me. "Do it again." At my questioning glance, he added, "I want to be able to catch it with one hand," and he had that look in his eyes, the anticipation of a challenge.

Thus the Cyclone Pass was added to my arsenal.

* * *

 _A.N.: Reviews give me life. What did you think of Kise? Of Riko? Of Kagami? Even just a one-liner makes me happy. Please press the pretty review button :)_


	5. Chapter 5

_A.N: I struggled with this chapter a lot. I'm really not confident about it. It's kind of filler-y. Oh well._

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

* * *

The Interhigh tournament worked like this: for each region, only the three best teams could compete. In the case of Kanto, where there were one hundred odd candidate teams, the selection process was quite complicated. Kanto schools were divided into four blocks, A to D. Each block was decided by a knock-out tournament: one loss, and you were out. The winners of each block, four teams in total, would play a league, called the "final league", and among them the best three moved on to Interhigh.

Last year Seirin had miraculously made it past the knock-out tournament to the final league, where they faced the three Kings of Tokyo.

This year, we'd had terrible luck in the draw. We shared Block A with two of the three Kings, one of which was Midorima's team. I caught Riko in the changing room once, pouring over the chart, calculating our route to the final. When I asked, she told me to mind my own business and focus on our first opponents in the knock-out – a no-name school who had gotten hold of an incredibly tall Senegalese player with a complicated name.

"Papawo…" Riko stuttered. "Someone think of a name for this guy!"

"Um… Dad?" I suggested.

Dad's passion for basketball was average, and it showed. His game was subpar – unremarkable even taking into account his Olympian height. The fact that this mediocre school thought they could use a player like him to beat the Miracles was frankly a bit insulting. Aomine would have crushed this guy to the ground.

Kagami struggled, but he came out on top, in the end.

* * *

While thoughts of Interhigh preliminaries occupied four fifths of my waking hours, it wasn't the sole component of my life.

In terms of schoolwork I stuck to the sensible philosophy of the golden mean. My higher-than-average grades in the humanities were balanced out by lower-than-average grades in the sciences. Due to the time commitment that basketball required, I wouldn't have been able to obtain better results if I tried, anyway.

Kagami was in the same situation. He was one step behind me in most subjects, but managed to stay ahead in the general class ranking since he unfailingly aced English, which was also the subject I was worst at. By cooperating we kept both our heads just above the water. We hadn't yet reached a formal arrangement but we'd randomly discuss homework after class or at Maji's or during breaks.

Since I didn't stick out at one end or the other of the spectrum I passed under the radar of most of my teachers. I wasn't ecstatic about my mediocre results (which were worse than last year's) but I didn't care enough to make more time for studying. My parents were happy as long as I passed (and they were hardly ever home anyway - in fact hardly ever in the country), so I didn't have the motivation to push harder either.

In my free time, after homework were done and I was too tired to play basketball, I read. While three walls of my room were dedicated to basketball merchandise, the fourth contained my mystery novel collection. At the very center of it was the Sherlock Holmes series, stories I knew inside out and upside down and could probably recite backwards from memory.

But sometimes books weren't enough to chase away the loneliness. Sometimes I could feel it lurking in the corners of my room just beyond the reach of my reading light, particularly if I hadn't had practice that day and my classmates had ignored me as usual (barring Kagami of course, but he was the exception to all of my rules). The photograph of my Teiko team on the shelf used to make me feel better - Kise was striking a pose and Midorima had a tiny smile and Murasakibara was pouting and Akashi just stared at the camera and Aomine was grinning hugely with one of his arms slung over my shoulders - but looking at it now just made the loneliness worse.

It was at this point that I usually got up and headed to the arcade or any place where I could distract myself by observing people.

Today, I phoned Momoi, since I hadn't talked to her in a while.

"Hi! What's up?"

"I was wondering if I could come over to your house for a bit, if it's not too much trouble," I said.

"Oh-um, well I'm with- I'm a bit busy today, but-"

"Is that Tetsu?" A man's lazy drawl interrupted. It was faint but I was able to recognize it, and my heart squeezed. It was Aomine.

So she was with him. Of course.

"Yes," Momoi replied. We both fell silent. Aomine and I hadn't spoken to each other for nearly half a year. I waited with bated breath for him to ask for the phone, but he didn't. Finally Momoi said, "I'm free tomorrow, Tetsu-chan. Maybe we could go shopping?"

"Okay."

"See you tomorrow then."

"Bye," I replied, trying not to feel too disappointed.

Not wanting to dwell on thoughts of him, I pulled on a hoodie and stepped out of my apartment. The evening crowd was thin; perfect for practicing misdirection. As a a warm up I started walking next to a middle-aged woman for a while, misdirecting her gaze every time it slid towards me. After a minute or so of this I waved one hand. "Hello. Sorry to bother you, but could you give me directions to the nearest train station?" The woman jumped so high it was almost comical, but she obliged. I smiled, thanked her, and went in search of a new target.

I did this with a few more people before moving on to the second part of the exercise: disappearing once I had already drawn their attention. I pulled their line of sight away from my face, towards their handbag or a shop window or a traffic light and used their moment of distraction to vanish before they noticed, leaving them with a puzzled expression hanging on their face and an unfinished sentence on their lips.

It was an old routine that didn't pose much of a challenge anymore, but at least it kept my mind occupied. The game carried me to an outdoors court where a group of young men were playing basketball, making the most of the last rays of sunlight. I stepped on the court and started following the ball around, ducking out of the way of their passes and skirting around their movements, pulling out all the tricks of "the ghost thing" that I would use in an actual game. After ten minutes or so I waited for the proper timing and redirected a pass with my fingertips, making the ball describe a ninety-degree arc in the air.

"Did that pass just bend?"

Satisfied, I pulled up my hood and ambled away unnoticed. It was getting dark. Better head home.

After spending so many hours observing people, I'd become proficient at spotting those who were particularly susceptible to misdirection. My ideal target was slightly taller than me so their eyes wouldn't directly meet my own; but with a stride that naturally matched mine, to make it easier for me to mimic their rhythm and find the holes. In order for it to be even more effective, there had to be a "light" nearby, a stronger presence than mine to draw their attention, or an element of distraction.

On the way home, I cut through a park, following a boy wearing a high school uniform. He was just the right height, and checked his phone constantly, oblivious of his surroundings. He was the closest thing to my ideal target I'd spotted all day and though I was tired I couldn't let this opportunity go to waste. I silently fell in step next to him, watching him out of the corner of my eye for the proper moment to draw his attention.

But we'd barely taken three steps in tandem when he stopped walking and turned towards me. "Can I help you?"

He was smiling; I was stunned.

"Not really. Sorry," I apologized.

The smile acquired a threatening edge and his hand tightened around his phone, lowering it away from sight. "Fuck off." He stalked away, shooting wary glances back at me every so often.

I was offended. Surely I didn't look like a mugger.

His face was engraved in my mind. His hair was black, combed back but with a few stray strands falling over his forehead. His eyes were sharp, alert, a cool shade between blue and grey.

My fingers dug into the pocket of my hoodie nervously.

The guy had _seen_ me.

* * *

The following day Momoi showed up at my doorstep with discount tickets for male clothing stores. "To apologize for Daiki's stupidity," she explained.

We went shopping. I didn't really need new clothes, having yet to use some of the ones we'd purchased over the holidays, but she still flitted around the store making exclamations of delight when she found something she liked before pushing it into my arms and ordering me to try it on. I put up a token resistance but I was used to playing human doll for Momoi so in the end I accepted my exile to the fitting rooms. Back in Teiko we'd usually gone shopping together, and even then it had been a one-sided affair.

Throughout the day I continued practicing misdirection with random passerbys. My encounter with the stranger at the park had shaken me. How could he have seen me? Was it because I'd been tired? But even people who were used to me would have taken a while to notice I was there. I tested this theory on Momoi, and sure enough, I was able to startle her like I did anyone else.

"Stop that, Tetsu!" she protested after the third time. "It's not funny," she pouted.

"Sorry."

I could recall his uniform perfectly: black, with a square silver clip in the neck, and I wondered if asking Momoi to find out which school he was from would be pushing the boundaries of paranoia. The most likely explanation was that I'd been tired and made too much noise when I approached him, or had accidentally done something to draw attention to myself without meaning to. Still, the uneasiness had taken root in my stomach. I'd always been the invisible one, the ghost. Never in my life had anyone been able to see through my weak presence straight off the bat like that. His suspicious gaze was stuck in my mind.

Lunchtime rolled around and we decided to take a break from shopping. It was sunny, so we got some takeaway and headed to the park - the same one from yesterday. I kept an eye out for the stranger, but didn't spot him anywhere. It had been chance, I reassured myself. Just a one-time accident, and anyway, I would probably never meet the guy again.

We sat down on a bench and had our picnic, chatting about school. Momoi congratulated me on Seirin's win against Kaijou.

"You'll be facing Midorima-kun next, right?"

"Yes. If we win all our games."

We carefully skirted around the topic of Aomine.

Throughout our conversation a group of older boys kept walking back and forth in front of our bench, obviously hoping to get Momoi's attention. I was used to it; it happened every time I went out with her, particularly if it was just the two of us. After a while, one of them finally worked up the courage to come talk to her. He was tall, with short brown hair and average features. "Hello," he grinned nervously. "Me and my friends were wondering why a pretty girl like you is having lunch alone. Would you like some company?"

Momoi smiled slyly. "I'm not alone." She gestured towards me. "I'm on a date with my boyfriend."

"Hi," I said.

The guy almost flew out of his sneakers. "Uh-sorry," he stammered. "My bad. I didn't see you there. Um, I guess I'll just go, then."

When he was gone, Momoi let out a long, disappointed sigh. "Tetsu, that wasn't manly at all. You should have told him to get lost."

I took a bite out of my sandwich and chewed. "Why? He was polite."

She sighed again. "That's what you're supposed to do when another man tries to flirt with your girlfriend. Though I get the feeling that you would have behaved the same way if you'd actually been a guy." This seemed to amuse her, and she giggled. "You're hopeless."

* * *

That afternoon, as we were heading to the last store on our list, we spotted a very familiar tall blonde person.

Or rather, Kise spotted Momoi's pink hair and called out to her. "Momoicchi!" We both turned to see him smiling and waving like an idiot over a group of girls. His eyes were drawn to my movement, and his smile grew. "Kurokocchi!"

How had the stranger done it? Even _Kise_ took an instant to notice my presence.

I hadn't seen him since that day we played, which wasn't all that strange, given that he lived in a different district. What he was doing in the capital city today was a mystery. I watched quietly as he excused himself from his fans and started making his way towards us, a huge beam on his face. When he reached us he snaked his right arm around my waist and his left around Momoi's. "How are my two favorite ladies doing?"

Momoi and I each pinched one of his cheeks. "Personal space, Kise-kun," we said in unison.

"Ouch," he protested, letting us go and rubbing his cheeks. "Not the face."

He told us he'd been hired by a prestigious studio for a photoshoot. He'd just finished, but he had three hours until his train was scheduled to leave. "I was going to sign some autographs, but I'd rather spend time with you," he said, a happy glint in his eyes.

"You can't," Momoi pouted. "It's a girl's shopping trip."

"We are buying men's clothes though," I observed.

"That's great! I can advise you."

Momoi walked around him and latched onto my arm. "But Tetsu rarely gets to have girl-time anymore."

Kise grasped my other arm, mirroring her pout. "I'm a model! I know all the latest trends." I eyed the clothes he was wearing. They were classy, I conceded, but then again he was so absurdly pretty he could wear a black rubbish bag and make it seem stylish.

"Are you saying I have bad taste?"

"Perhaps not for women's clothes, but for men's, mine is better."

They bickered all the way to the store. At least Kise's presence meant we weren't interrupted every three seconds by boys asking for Momoi's phone number. Kise's fangirls, similarly, seemed to be kept at bay by my female friend. Now if only they stopped trying to tear me in two.

"Let's have a competition," Momoi proposed as we entered the store. It was a huge warehouse, with racks upon racks of coats and shirts and clothes for every occasion. I got dizzy just taking it all in. "Whoever can find the best outfit for Tetsu gets to spend the rest of the day with her."

"Um," I protested.

"Done," Kise smirked.

I resigned myself to my role as human doll.

They threw themselves into the competition enthusiastically. Each time I emerged from the fitting room I was subjected to careful scrutiny and criticism from whoever the outfit wasn't chosen by while the other gushed over how handsome I looked. At one point Kise tried to teach me how to catwalk, placing his hands on my hips and leaning in much closer than necessary to whisper instructions in my ear. Momoi hit him upside the head. "At least teach her how _male_ models walk, you fashion-crippled moron!"

Though a lot of people were missing, for a moment it felt just like our group outings in middle school. I smiled, watching them argue over which shirt was best. When it was finally time for me to choose, I ignored both of the articles they were presenting and pointed to an unremarkable white t-shirt I'd spotted earlier. "I like that one."

Momoi stared in disbelief. "It's so plain." By Kise's frown, he seemed to think the same thing.

I took it from the rack and turned it to show them the picture of a basketball printed on the front.

Kise's lips lifted into a smile. Momoi sighed, but she was smiling too. "You're hopeless."

The three of us spent the rest of the afternoon together, hanging out at the park where Momoi and I had lunch earlier. She left first, because she still had homework to do for the next day. She hugged me goodbye and told Kise to "behave himself" before sauntering off.

"I think I might go home too," I said as we watched her go. "I'm a bit tired."

He took my hand, his long fingers closing gently around mine. "Stay for a while. There's an hour left until my train leaves."

He must have been quite tired too, because he didn't object when I proposed to sit down on the grass. He plopped down next to me and leaned back on his elbows, closing his eyes and lifting his face to the afternoon sun. There were no rowdy children in our little corner of the park, and we spent a while in silence, unwilling to disrupt the peace. I welcomed the moment of respite in an otherwise busy day.

"Our next game will be at Interhigh," he finally said.

I nodded.

"You'll have to beat Midorimacchi first."

I nodded again.

"I spoke to him last week. I told him you were playing. I hope you don't mind."

"He would have found out soon anyway," I replied. And truly, I hadn't expected a huge gossip like Kise to keep his mouth shut. If Midorima knew, that meant Akashi knew as well - the two of them were too close for Midorima not to tell him. Probably Murasakibara, too. I wasn't sure about Aomine. Momoi had promised not to say anything, and he'd grown so separate from the rest of us.

"How are your preliminaries?" Kise asked.

"I've been benched for the last three games. Kagami is getting better, though, and the rest of Seirin is doing well."

He opened his eyes at the mention of my light and turned his head towards me. His whole demeanor changed. "I'll beat you next time." He wasn't smiling. His eyes were serious, focused.

I met his gaze with equal seriousness. It wasn't arrogance I saw in him, but determination. This wasn't the Kise that had mocked Seirin when he interrupted our practice. My game against him _had_ changed something. A little thrill ran through me, and I couldn't help giving him a tiny smile. "I'll look forward to it." And I meant it.

He suddenly grinned. "Let's make a bet. If I win..." He shifted closer, a playful light dancing in his eyes. "You'll go out with me."

Honestly, this guy. "No."

"Why not?"

"Half my team already thinks you're gay."

"I don't care."

"Someone would find out I'm a girl."

"We could keep it a secret," he suggested, gesturing excitedly. "It would be so much fun!"

I knew he was only kidding. I'd lost count of the number of girlfriends he'd had in middle school - dating was just a game to him. He didn't mean anything by it. I leaned back on the grass and closed my eyes, and put in practice the number one principle of misdirection: diversion. "Why don't you ask Momoi?" I silently apologized to her in advance.

He was quiet. I opened my eyes to find him looking down at me with a soft expression. "That's not how it works, Kurokocchi." I blinked, surprised, and he looked away. "I know you think I'm- well, you're not wrong, but-" he shook his head. "Never mind. Then how about the loser treats the winner to lunch."

I thought about it. A friendly outing and a free lunch seemed reasonable. "Okay."

He smiled to himself. "You're hopeless."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Our next game was against the thugs that Kagami, Kise and I had beaten that one time in the outdoors court. And like that time, it was an instant kill.

The thugs vacated their bench, leaving room for the next match. We were a bit slower; the Coach talking with the Captain about something and the rest of us lazing around, not quite willing to pack up yet. That was when an unnatural silence descended upon the gym. I looked around for its cause: a team with orange jerseys had just made their entrance.

A waterfall of sound shattered the silence. "Shutoku! Shutoku! Shutoku!" The spectators on the stands roared.

Seirin fell quiet as we watched them approach. Shutoku, the King of the East. According to Riko's chart, if both teams won all their games, we would face them in the finals to determine the winner of A block.

Also the team that had recruited Midorima, the number two player of the Generation of Miracles - the shooting guard. Someone who, as incredible as it seemed, I had never seen miss a shot.

Partly this was because he only took shots that he felt confident would go in, but mostly, he was just that good. He could take very far shots as well, all the way back from the half-court line. And due to his incredibly high arc, they were almost impossible to block, and the flight time allowed him to go back to defense before the ball even went in, cutting off the possibility of a counter.

He walked with poise behind his captain, the fingers of his left hand bandaged and holding a random item - today, a teddy bear. Like Kise, he was different now than from my memories - taller, sharper, and I was certain his skills had sharpened too.

I wondered whether I should get up to greet him. He and I had never really gotten along. He was a deeply religious and superstitious person, hardly ever smiling, arrogant and judgmental and not at all pleasant to be around. We had numerous topics of disagreement, but only one that I couldn't forgive.

Despite his quirks, he was a very intelligent person, and...he'd known.

Back in Teiko, he'd been aware of the change earlier than anyone, even myself. He'd seen it coming, perhaps because he'd been the closest to Akashi. He'd known exactly what was happening to our team.

The other four Miracles didn't dedicate a thought to an opponent after we beat them, but Midorima did. Just a glance, just enough to convince me that he'd seen, that he'd acknowledged the disastrous consequences of Teiko's philosophy for the people we faced. The same small indecipherable look that he gave Murasakibara when he announced he was skipping practice or to Akashi when he started kicking bench players off the team.

So yes, Midorima had known what we were becoming. But he hadn't objected or tried to do anything about it; in third year, he'd started claiming a basket to himself and spending the entire two hours of training shooting silently. When it ended he left without a word. As time went on, he became more antisocial and withdrawn. He stopped passing in games. If he got the ball, he would invariably shoot it, score, and turn back to defense unperturbed.

It grated, that went along with it knowing it was wrong. Still, the polite thing would be to go and say hello.

I glanced at Kagami, who sat on the bench besides me. He was staring intently at my old teammate, and I smiled to myself. It was so easy to read him. When he declared that he was going for a talk, I quietly followed behind him.

"Your name is Midorima, right?" he asked.

Midorima raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Yes, but who are you, in fact?" With just that one sentence he'd already succeeded in ticking Kagami off (then again, our ace was very easy to rile up).

Another Shutoku player stood behind Midorima. He was lean and slightly taller than me, but not too tall for a baller - probably a point guard. A thin, relaxed smile played on his lips, like he was finding amusement in the situation. His hair was combed back, but black strands of it fell over a pair of sharp slate blue eyes.

I startled.

It was the stranger from the park a few days ago. He was a Shutoku player?

Then he did something mind-boggling. He looked away from Kagami's and Midorima's conversation-turned-stand-off and _frowned_ at me.

I was still partially hidden behind my light. With two strong presences so close to siphon all the attention, he shouldn't have been able to see me at all. But his eyes had no trouble fixing on my face, like the lack of presence that defined my entire existence didn't mean _anything._ "Yo Shin-chan," he said, nudging his teammate with his elbow. "Who's that dude?"

I refused to be shaken, and left Kagami's shadow to make my own introduction. "Hello. My name is Kuroko Tetsuya."

His eyebrows flew up. " _The_ Kuroko? The Kuroko this weirdo has rambled on about for the past week?"

Midorima pushed up his glasses. "I have done no such thing."

The boy chuckled, rubbing his head sheepishly. "Oh man, I don't know if you remember, but I think we met at the park."

"I remember," I assured. Like there was a chance of me forgetting _that._

He smiled and bowed. "I'm sorry for being rude back then. I thought you'd been trying to mug me or something. I'm Takao Kazunari."

I nodded. "Nice to meet you, Takao-kun." He straightened from his bow, and for a moment, we stared at each other in silence. On impulse, I _misdirected._ I glanced at Kagami and Midorima and angled my body and leaned back slightly.

He smiled.

Admittedly, it had been a half-hearted attempt. We weren't playing a game and I'd made our conversation his primary focus already. But still. His gaze hadn't wavered from my face even for a second. This was alarming.

His smile widened. "Shin-chan's told me all about you!" What did he mean, _all_ about me? "I'm looking forwards to the final."

"Don't get ahead of yourself. We still have other games to play," Midorima chided. He glanced down at me. "Kuroko."

"Midorima-kun."

His olive green eyes traveled up and down to take in my appearance. It was clinical and indifferent, the universal appraising glance between players, the type of look you would direct to the opponent's side of the court during the warm-up to gauge their strength. I was an enemy to him now. Nothing more, nothing less.

He looked up from me to Seirin's bench. "I'll never understand you. Burying yourself with a mediocre team, after going through all that effort to be able to compete."

Kagami jumped into the conversation, with a challenge, as was his way. "You'll understand plenty when we beat you."

Some trash-talk ensued. I had the usual disagreement with Midorima about fate. "At most, all you can make is a prediction," I stated. "You won't know what will happen until we actually play the game."

His eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "You were always so naive." He started walking towards his bench, but turned back before reaching it. "Watch me carefully - I'll prove you don't have a chance."

"Don't mind him," Takao mouthed from his teammate's blind spot. He saluted with two fingers and a grin before falling in step behind him.

While seeing Midorima again was interesting, it was Takao's smiling face that I couldn't get out of my head for the rest of the day. Those eyes… they were too sharp, too knowing. Did he know I was a girl? He didn't seem to have any malicious intent, but the possibility still made me uneasy. And the fact that he could _see_ me didn't reassure me either.

I'd convinced myself that the incident at the park was a freak accident. Now I was off-balance. I didn't know what to think. No one had ever _seen_ me before.

Watching Shutoku play was enjoyable. They made basketball seem so effortless, so fluid. While Kagami and the rest of my team was awed by Midorima's shooting prowess, I watched Takao. He was a well-rounded player, fast and powerful, calm and discrete on the court. He had excellent court vision, moving the ball seamlessly into the holes of the defense. _Good sportsmanship too,_ I thought as he helped a player of the opposition to his feet after a collision.

His passes were… very good. He couldn't use misdirection, but his timing and precision might have been better than even mine. Overshadowed as he was by Midorima, I doubted many spectators fully appreciated his skill - but as a passing specialist myself, I couldn't help feeling some professional admiration.

Like me, teamwork was the core of his basketball. My respect for the guy climbed in par with my uneasiness.

Any player with a number of years of experience could learn to read the game. In Takao, there was something else… Something that set him apart from the rest of his team, something in those perfectly-timed passes and in the way he moved. And yet, although he was skilled, he wasn't at the level of the Miracles or Kagami.

So why was my gut instinct screaming at me that he was dangerous? I thought back to middle school. I would have clearly remembered someone who could _see_ me if I'd played him before, but his face didn't stir up any memories.

Kagami finally noticed my thoughtful expression. He tore his eyes away from the game for a bit. "Don't make that face. We'll figure out a way to block him."

"Midorima isn't the one who concerns me…" I trailed off. He was the biggest threat, of course, but he was a threat I already knew. "Takao… He could see me."

"Huh?"

I didn't elaborate, since I didn't understand it myself. One thing was certain: Shutoku was going to be tough.

* * *

 **Extra: Kise**

* * *

Of course Kise went to watch the finals of Tokyo's A-block.

His team had already won their way to the top of the Kanagawa prefecture and thus guaranteed their place at Interhigh. Coach had given them the weekend off to celebrate. Needless to say, he'd jumped on the first train to Tokyo. It was Kuroko playing against Midorima and he was surprised that the other Miracles weren't there to witness the epic showdown.

Kasamatsu, his (killjoy) captain had accompanied him. Something about checking out the competition and making sure Kise behaved himself. They'd found seats at the very bottom of the stands, the closest possible to the courts.

He rooted for Seirin. He still felt sore and frustrated about his loss against them, but that was exactly it: he would never wish those feelings on Kuroko. He wanted her to win. Not just because it was _her,_ but because his own experience with defeat, while unpleasant, had opened his eyes to certain things and he wondered how it would affect Midorima.

He was getting a bit ahead of himself, he supposed. Both Seirin and Shutoku had yet to win their respective semifinals before they played the final in the afternoon (even to Kise two games in the same day seemed excessive). Seirin had it especially tough, since their semifinal was against Seiho, the King of the West, the team with the best defense of Tokyo. A team that had tripled their score last year.

He had a feeling this time would be different, though.

"Hey, Kasamatsu-senpai," he leaned forwards, crossing his fingers under his chin. "Let's make a bet."

Just as he spoke, players from the four schools trickled into the court. He spared a glance for Midorima – who looked ridiculous as always, wearing that unflattering orange jersey and carrying a weird statue in his hands – before his eyes roved the court for Kuroko. He finally spotted her walking next to Kagami, saying something to him quietly. When they reached the bench she shrugged off her jacket and slid on a pair of black wristbands, clenching and unclenching her fingers. An absent smile floated on Kise's lips. It was so adorable when she tried to act manly.

Following his line of sight, his captain frowned. "I know they beat us… But realistically, I don't think they can win against both Seiho and Shutoku."

"Let's bet on it, then," he repeated. "If Seirin wins, you let me borrow your motorbike for a day."

"Goddammit Kise, you're fifteen. You don't even know how to drive."

"I'll just watch you for a bit."

Kasamatsu grumbled under his breath something that sounded suspiciously like _fucking geniuses_. "Fine," he relented. "If they lose, you… Y-you get me a date with a girl. A-and she has to be at least a nine."

Kise's smile widened. "Deal."

But it turned into a frown when he spotted a familiar player in Seiho's line-up. "That… It can't be…" He slapped his hands on the railing in front of him, surprised.

"What?"

"That baldy!" Kise exclaimed.

"Have you played him before?"

"Yes," he admitted. He pouted and added, "I only scored six points."

Kasamatsu's eyebrows shot up. "He managed to stop _you_?"

Admittedly, it had been early on in his basketball career, and the bald monk himself hadn't scored a single basket (Kise had made sure of that) but it grated. He could still recall the hours of extra practice he'd had to do for failing to meet his point quota. His eyebrow twitched. "Crush him, Kurokocchi."

Six minutes into the first quarter and Seirin was losing twelve to zero.

Seirin's ace couldn't get away from the bald monk (and Kise had _very_ mixed feelings about that). In contrast, Kuroko was amazing. He'd always admired her style – humble and graceful and fluid, giving rise to smooth and beautiful plays _._ Today she moved with more poise and confidence that he'd ever seen in her. He watched her body coil as she recognised a pass-course; the tension in her muscles as she shifted her weight to her pivot-foot, the arch of her back when she extended a thin, elegant hand behind her to tip the ball away.

In moments like these she knocked the breath out of him.

 _Careful there_.

It was such a shame that the majority of people in the audience couldn't fully appreciate her talent; though at the same time, it made him feel special to be one of the few that could _._

Thanks to her Kagami finally managed to score, but he was also getting charged with offensive fouls like an idiot. The bald monk's strategy was obvious yet the moron was too single-minded to realize it. He made his fourth and Seirin's coach took him off – along with Kuroko, much to Kise's chagrin.

He watched Shutoku's game for a bit while he waited for her to come back on. It was boring. The King of the East was smashing, even with Midorima on the bench.

One of Seirin's second years got injured racing for a ball going out of bounds. Predictably, Kagami stood up, asking to be let back on, but to everyone's extreme surprise, Kuroko slapped a hand over his face while he was mid-sentence. "The guy with four fouls should keep quiet."

"Why, you punk-" Kagami put his own hand on her head and gripped it like a basketball.

She mumbled something against his palm, too low for Kise to hear from his seat. The coach seemed to agree with her and subbed her on instead of Kagami.

Something akin to jealousy permeated through Kise's surprise. In middle school, Kuroko had been quiet and reserved most of the time. She didn't express her opinions unless asked directly (except if the conversation was about vanilla shake). She'd never demanded to be subbed on like that - she'd lacked the confidence. Kise had needed to nag and whine and flirt for two years for her to to develop the easy interaction she now had with him, and yet here she was, being comfortable with a group of people she'd barely known for a few months.

Another reason to dislike the red-haired idiot.

Seirin did win, much to Kise's relief. It was a close thing, their points only pulling ahead at the last second thanks to a buzzer-beater adrenalin-filled three-pointer from their captain. He watched as Kuroko celebrated, one of her teammates wrapping his arm around her shoulders. It summoned another wave of mixed feelings because while he would normally support anything that made her happy, he was also acutely aware that she hadn't shown anywhere near this level of happiness when _Teiko_ won.

"It was a good game," Kasamatsu commented. "Both teams played well. I don't think anyone expected Seirin to win."

"It's only because of Kuroko," he stated. Even though she hadn't scored, she'd been the one that most contributed towards victory; she had been the ace in that game, and it wasn't just his bias talking. Seirin wouldn't have stood a chance without her passes. They didn't deserve her.

And yet she looked so _happy._ Had she really disliked Teiko that much?

Half an hour into the break and Kise was unable to stay still any longer. He left Kasamatsu on the stands and went to look for her. He found her standing in front of a vending machine in the corridor behind the stands. "Kurokocchi!" he exclaimed cheerfully, putting an arm around her waist from behind and lifting her in the air. Her elbow caught him in the nose. "Ow!"

"Oh. Hello, Kise-kun. Sorry, you startled me."

He wondered why it was that every time he touched her she reacted by hitting him. Other girls liked it.

"It's alright." He put her down and winked. "You can _hit on_ me all you like."

Kise did put some effort into his lines. He would have liked to see evidence that he affected her at least once. Just one little blush would be enough for him. Unfortunately, her expressionless face was a universal constant. "I didn't know you had come to watch."

"Of course I did! It's you against Midorimacchi. How could I not?" He grinned. "Congratulations on your win against Seiho. It was an exciting game."

"Thank you," she replied, and though she didn't smile, he could see how the simple reminder of the victory lit up her eyes. "Seirin played well."

"Only because of you. You were the best player on the court," he insisted.

"You think so?" He nodded. "Thank you," she repeated, pleased by the sincere compliment. The vending machine clanged, and the bottle she'd purchased fell down. She bent down to get it, uncapped it and drank greedily.

Kise was going to say something else but his eyes fell on the way her lips sealed around the bottle and his thought process whirled to a halt.

It was like the world momentarily stopped spinning. He watched her throat move as she swallowed. The soft popping sound when she separated the bottle from her mouth made his own mouth feel dry. He licked his lips.

"Are you thirsty, Kise-kun?" she asked, bewildered by his fixed stare.

"Maybe." He leaned his elbow on the machine and brought his face closer to hers. His voice came out low and husky. "But water's not what I'm thirsty for."

She blinked.

 _Too forward. Oops._

She pushed the bottle into his face. "Just take it," she grumbled, turning to get a new one for herself.

"Kuroko! We've been looking for you!" one of her teammates called from the end of the corridor. "Coach wants to talk to you."

Kise cleared his throat, catching her attention before she left, and gave her a grin he didn't really feel. "Good luck on your game against Midorimacchi. I'll be cheering for you."

She smiled and nodded once and followed her teammate away. Kise's grin fell as he watched her leave. When she was out of sight, he looked thoughtfully down at the bottle before bringing it to his lips.

Most people who played team sports outgrew the whole _indirect kiss_ thing pretty fast since sharing water bottles was the norm. But back in Teiko, Momoi had kept the only female player's bottle separate from the others, since according to her "boys' stupidity could be contagious". And when it came to certain things Kise could be a bit immature.

He felt the rim of the bottle against his lips. Just the fact that his mouth was on the same place Kuroko's had been a second earlier made his pulse jump.

He'd wanted to kiss girls before. He _had_ kissed girls before, more times than all the boys in his grade combined. So he was familiar with this, this yearning _._ He was even familiar with wanting _Kuroko_ (this wasn't the first time he thought about her in that way) _._ He'd never acted on it before, he wasn't sure why; perhaps because while kissing didn't mean anything to him he knew that other people felt differently. Perhaps because Kuroko was too precious to lump with all the other girls he kissed and forgot on a daily basis. Perhaps because the rest of the Miracles would lynch him.

Maybe he was afraid that she'd get angry and stop talking to him if he took it that far and he didn't want to lose her friendship.

Maybe he'd never wanted to kiss anyone as much as he wanted Kuroko and he was terrified of the inevitable rejection.

Something was different this time, though. The residual jealously and complex emotions that the game had awakened built a knot in his throat that made it hard to swallow, and the image of her lips around the bottle knocked the breath out of his lungs. Kuroko hadn't had this effect on him a year ago.

He couldn't help imagining it. Her lips and... He groaned and slumped his forehead against the vending machine.

 _Careful._

Kise went back to his seat and spent the following two hours drinking from the bottle and daydreaming, much to Kasamatsu's annoyance. He only snapped back to himself when the starting whistle blew, and he leaned forwards in his seat, wondering how he could have missed the players lining up.

The first two minutes of the final were _intense_. No one scored. The game seemed to be locked at a standstill, neither team willing to give an inch. The tension in the gym was so thick he could almost taste it.

Until, of course, the balance was shattered by one of Midorima's half-court threes.

"The first quarter will go to Shutoku, then," Kasamatsu predicted.

But then Kuroko actually _caught_ the ball, drawing the whole gym's attention, and stepped behind the baseline. Kise's eyes widened as she started to pivot, pulling wind around her and making her hair flutter, momentum building up in the arm extended behind her until the ball shot forwards, straight past Midorima to the other side of the court, where Kagami was already waiting. Seirin's ace caught it with a grunt and slammed it into the basket.

The whole thing took less than a second.

Kise's jaw dropped.

It was a display of pure, raw power. It was something he would never have thought Kuroko capable of. Sorry," she said, and her quiet words were heard clearly in the silent gym, "but I can't let you take the first quarter so easily." She looked powerful and confident and determined.

Kise just sort of… gave up.

He gave in and let himself fall.

* * *

 _A.N. Sooo... did you like that? I prefer writing in first person, but I've been thinking of doing some extras with the POV of other characters. Yay or nay?_


	7. Chapter 7

_A.N.: You have no idea how much I've struggled with this chapter. In the end I gave up. I don't like it, I think it's too long, but there you go. Feel free to suggest ways to shorten it or make it better._

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

* * *

At the beginning of a match, I always took a moment to observe the player guarding me, their level of awareness, the direction of their attention. It could take seconds or minutes, depending on the person and how familiar I was with them; but soon enough, I was able to create the gaps that would allow me to slip away, see the holes like they were mapped out in front of me. I wasn't the only person who could do this - taking advantage of a distracted defender was a skill every player had to some degree, and every defender got distracted at some point.

But not Takao. I couldn't shake him off. Minutes passed and he _had no gaps._

I already knew his spatial awareness was advanced from watching him play before, but this was impossible. He was completely immune to misdirection. He stuck to my heels like a shadow - no, the irony wasn't lost on me.

"You look so serious, Tetsuko-chan," he remarked when there was a lull in the game, low enough that no one else heard.

I froze, my eyes searching his face. Did he just-

"I won't rat you out," he quickly added. "I just thought it would be dishonest to hide that I know. Midorima told me."

His knowledge of my true name and gender wasn't comforting exactly, but for some reason, I trusted him. "Thank you," I replied, relaxing.

He grinned easily. "Ah, but I won't go easy on you either or anything like that. It's weird, but… I'm pumped up about facing you." He ducked his head and looked at me from under his bangs. "We're the same breed of player, I guess. Both of us are freshmen," he paused, chuckling, "or fresh _wo_ men, and passing is our style… I feel some kinda, hatred for the same kind – or something like that."

"No one's told me that before. But I understand where you're coming from." Not really hatred, but a strange mixture of admiration, jealousy and dislike. I wanted to beat him, but it was different from my desire to defeat the Miracles. This was a new feeling that I'd never felt towards anyone else before. _Rivalry_. Takao was my rival.

I watched his eyes follow the ball as it passed by on our left, but when I moved to his blind spot, he followed me effortlessly.

Midorima, defying my wildest expectations, had augmented his shooting range to include the entire court. That was _ridiculous._ Kagami couldn't beat him alone – he needed me, I _had_ to figure out how to get away from Takao. Even if he had extraordinary spatial memory and an uncanny sense of distance and dimension, he was still human. There had to be a way.

So concentrated was I on my task that it was only during the third quarter, when Riko benched me and I was able to see the game from outside, that I realized that something else was very wrong. My inability to circulate passes wasn't just putting my team "in a tight spot." There was a much deeper and more serious consequence. It was an uneasy feeling that I couldn't put a name to at first, but it grew and grew the more I watched Kagami.

At first I thought it was his usual tunnel vision, a problem which caused him to get too hung up on the score, but which could be solved with a well-timed jab to the ribs. But something was different this time. Like the captain, Kagami was usually vocal on the court, challenging or cursing or celebrating. Today he was unnaturally quiet. His expression was a mixture of feral and anticipatory, darker than I'd ever seen it, and more than anything else his utter silence alarmed me.

I bit my lip as Midorima received the ball and got into shooting position. If the point gap widened too much before I could sub back in, there would be no taking this game back-

Kagami jumped.

Now, I knew he was a physical monster; his jumps had always been impressive. It was a talent Riko had spotted, and the reason she'd sent him to get coached by a professional. But…since when could he get _this_ high? He seemed to be suspended in mid-air. His fingers grazed the ball - I held my breath as Midorima's three-pointer fell, fell, fell and...

Missed _._

The surprise made the spectators and some of the bench stand up. The next time Midorima got the ball, Kagami jumped again. He swung down and _blocked_ the shot, smashing the ball against the ground.

A shiver ran down my spine. I could recognize this power. It was the kind of feat that no regular player, no matter how gifted, could hope to match. An intrinsic, unique power that I'd only ever sensed in five other people. It had been dormant in Kagami until now, slowly rising, slowly growing, until today - today it leaked out of his every pore like it wanted to burst out of his skin.

A Shutoku player saved the ball and went to shoot, but Kagami flew again, blocking it twice in a row. The time he spent in the air was surreal... He was floating.

My astonishment was replaced by the uneasiness from before. This was wrong. He went for a difficult shot even though Hyuga was free, and he stepped in to defend players that weren't his mark. He was trying to do everything himself. It wasn't the tunnel vision - it was different, _deliberate,_ and my stomach dropped, finally seeing it for what it was:

Selfish play.

 _Not him._ An icy fist clenched in my chest. _Not him, too._

Until today, Kagami had been the perfect ace. He didn't hog the ball. Whoever had taught him basketball had hammered the importance of teamwork into his subconscious; although he was usually the one to put the ball in, he was perfectly aware that every player on the team contributed towards making it happen.

The Kagami playing right now was nothing like that. He didn't act like he was alone - it was worse. He acted like the rest of Seirin was a _hindrance._

And just like that, the lock I kept on _those_ memories broke. Images rushed in front of my eyes - Aomine's smile losing its shine until it disappeared completely, how he abandoned me, how he forgot me like I never existed. The sheer helplessness as the rest of the Miracles turned their backs on me one by one, the pain as a piece of my heart was torn away each time. Being alone again, being invisible again and the emptiness sharper than ever after having tasted completion.

And now - now that I was finally starting to sew the wound closed - now that Seirin had started healing the scar Teiko left in my heart - now it was slowly being ripped open, one stitch at a time. I couldn't breathe.

 _Please, not again._

The whistle blew for the end of the quarter, and I watched with dread as he approached the bench. He didn't even glance at me before he sat down.

"Kagami, you should have passed-" Hyuga started.

"Yeah, I didn't pass," he interrupted. "So what? What we need right now isn't team play. It's me, scoring!"

I felt sick as I watched him scowl at our captain, completely unapologetic. My deepest fear, my worst nightmare was unfolding before my eyes again, and like before I couldn't do anything to stop–

No _._

 _"If, like you say, he has the potential to reach the level of the Generation of Miracles, at that point he's bound to grow apart from the rest of his team. He'll become a different person."_

No _._ Not this time.

 _"I guess you're worth one burger."_

 _"Most of the time I just sort of... Guess where you are."_

 _"We won, eh Kuroko? You're not completely useless after all, kid."_

 _"You did well. You should be proud."_

Not this time. Not him.

"Kagami-kun." He turned to look at me, and I punched him across the jaw.

I'd hit basketballs, plenty of times - once, I even managed to bust apart an old ball and sprain my wrist in the process. But never a person. The only time I'd witnessed serious violence was when a player from another school made a slur about my being a girl, and Aomine snapped.

But mere words wouldn't get through to the place Kagami was in now. And I couldn't lose him, I couldn't go through that again. I was desperate.

It started out as a slap, but Tetsuya's voice in the back of my mind pointed out that a boy would punch instead, so I closed my fist at the last second. The result was an amateur-ish half-punch that probably hurt me more than it did him; his cheek was soft and hard at the same time and I felt my knuckles connect against the outline of his teeth. But it had the intended effect, snapping his head to the side and nearly toppling him off the bench.

I wasn't surprised when he jumped up, grabbed the collar of my jersey and punched me right back. I blinked up at him from the floor, my head ringing, a stinging pain blooming on my cheek.

* * *

Up in the stands Kise struggled against Kasamatsu's hold. "That little _fuck!"_ he hissed.

His captain barely managed to keep a grip on him. "Sit down, Kise!"

* * *

"There's no point if you win alone. You say you want to beat the Miracles but you're – you're just like them!" I said.

My words struck a chord, or perhaps I wasn't able to completely stop the pain from showing in my expression, because I saw a spark of remorse in his eyes. It was gone in a split second. "If we lose, that'll just be some feel-good trash!"

"Then what is victory?" I challenged. "So you'll make the number on that scoreboard higher than the opponent's. Tell me, if no one is happy, is that victory?"

There was a moment of tension in which everyone around us held their breaths. From my spot on the floor, I refused to look away.

His fists unclenched. He looked up at Shutoku's bench, who were all staring at us in shock, and at the scoreboard, and finally around at our teammates, before his gaze met mine again, and the darkness in his pupils dissolved. He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, grimacing to himself. "You're right. I'm sorry. Of course it's better if we win together."

Relief flooded my whole body, leaving me shaky and weak. I hadn't lost him.

"Right," Riko said. "I hope you mean it, Kagami, because I am _this_ close to taking you off. The only thing I want you to do is stop Midorima, do you understand? Leave the offense to Hyuga and the others." He nodded, and she looked around at the rest of us. "Kuroko-"

"I can play," I assured her. "I think I'll be able to get away from Takao this time."

The referee signaled for the teams to get on the court, but Riko held me back, her eyes fixed on my cheek. "Are you sure?" she asked, worried.

"Yes." It hurt, and I hadn't yet stopped trembling from the shock, but if Kagami had gone full power, he would have probably knocked me out. "He held back."

"We're playing a game now, but I swear, tomorrow..." I didn't hear the end of that sentence because Midorima was stalking towards Kagami, Takao trailing behind him. I left Riko behind and headed over there to defuse the situation.

Midorima's shoulders were stiff, his mouth a thin line. I believed he was intelligent enough not to say or do anything that would compromise my situation, but I wasn't going to take any chances. Between Takao and I, we managed to distract our respective aces long enough that they had no time to exchange words before the referee blew the whistle signalling the start of the quarter.

* * *

After the match, paper-scissors-rock against the other first years cast me into the role of Kagami's crutch.

The idiot had jumped one too many times and injured something. All of us were shaking with the exhaustion of two games in a row, but he was the only one who collapsed when he tried to stand up. His arm was slung around my shoulders, with mine around his waist to help support him. To say he was heavy would be an understatement. It was a long way to the restaurant where we'd decided to replenish our energy. And to top it all off, it was raining.

But, I was happy. We'd won. It felt amazing, almost surreal. After seeing the way Midorima had evolved, and Takao's immunity to misdirection, even I couldn't deny that the odds had been bad.

Kagami tripped over something, making him lean more heavily on me. "Kagami-kun, you're heavy."

We trudged on behind the rest of our team, who were walking at a pace a bit too fast for us to follow. Despite our victory, the atmosphere between us was charged, the pain in my cheek an acute reminder of what had occurred. It felt like it was already swelling.

Kagami grunted with each step, his pain in another category.

"Idiot," I said.

"Oi."

"Only idiots injure themselves unnecessarily. Basketball idiot. Bakagami."

"Oi. You're a bigger basketball idiot than I am."

"At least I don't injure myself like an amateur."

"Stop scolding me. You're not my mother."

"And you're not a kid. It's not just you who's affected. You're Seirin's ace, the team depends on you. You need to think of the consequences."

"Says the puny guy who thought it'd be a good idea to provoke five thugs even though he's so puny."

I didn't point out that I'd trusted him and Kise to have my back that one time. And I was average height for a Japanese. "I won't carry you again. So don't do it again," I insisted. He grunted in response.

Kagami absorbed things much better when they were accompanied by a practical demonstration, so I waited until we reached a good puddle and dropped him. It was worth it if only for the look on his face.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

I meant to reply flippantly, but what came out instead was quiet and serious. "You scared me."

He instantly knew what I meant, his eyes fixing on my cheek before lowering in embarrassment. "I already apologized, alright?"

The rain drowned out all sounds around us save for the odd passing car. He looked quite miserable sitting there in the puddle, wet hair plastered to his forehead.

"I'm the one to blame," I said, finally giving word to the thought that had plagued me since I'd first seen him jump. If I'd been able to support him from the beginning of the game he wouldn't have thought about doing everything himself. Instead, I hadn't been there when he needed me. I had failed him. No wonder he'd decided he was better off alone. "I'm your partner and I should have been there." I looked away. "I promise I'll be more reliable in the future."

"It's not your fault I was a cocky asshole, Kuroko." He reached up, and I grabbed his wrist to help him stand. He put his arm around my shoulders again and we resumed walking.

After a few more seconds of silence, he cleared his throat. "It's not that I couldn't rely on you. I just..." He trailed off. "You played with the Miracles. And I know I'm not as good as them yet, okay? I wanted to prove that I was worthy of- I just didn't want to lose to that seaweed."

I was shocked by the confession. Kagami being humble? I looked around for flying pigs, but didn't find any. "Did your injury also affect your brain?"

"Shut up. I was trying to be honest."

He seemed embarrassed - it wasn't easy to admit your insecurities, especially for a guy like Kagami, so I decided to cut him some slack. "I don't think Kagami-kun is weaker than the Miracles," I stated. "In some aspects, I think you are better. If what concerns you is the purely individual skill..." I recalled his first incredible jump, the speed of his dribble when he faced Midorima. It still wasn't quite as sharp, but it was definitely closer than when I'd first met him. "You're almost there."

Although he didn't reply, I knew it made him happy to hear that from me.

The restaurant was a small, cozy place, and the warmth felt nice after being out in the rain. And, surprisingly, Kise and Kasamatsu were sitting at one of the tables. What were the odds that we would choose the same restaurant?

My musings were interrupted because as soon as Kise's eyes found Kagami, he looked _furious_. He started getting up from his chair. "Kaijou," Kagami said, startled. "What are you doing here?"

Kise closed the remaining distance and grabbed him by the front of his jersey. "Do that one more time," he spat, pointing at my cheek with his free hand, "and I'll fuck you up so bad you'll never be able to play basketball again."

"The hell do you think you are?" Kagami snarled, knocking his hand off and shoving him back.

I got between them before it could escalate into real violence. "That's enough." My voice was steady, but my heart was pounding. Until this moment I'd forgotten that Kise had been in the stands. Midorima's reaction had been bad enough - I should have foreseen something like this from Kise.

Between him and Kagami I would have normally pegged him as the less aggressive of the two, but he was livid, his jaw tight, fists clenched, his whole body coiled like a spring about to snap. It scared me a bit, but I forced him to meet my gaze. His golden eyes were flat and angry. "You can't just let him hit you," he bit out.

"I hit him first."

"I don't care! It's not okay!"

I understood where he was coming from - but Kagami didn't know I was a girl, and strangely enough, I was glad he didn't treat me like one, even if it meant that I got punched. I held Kise's gaze without flinching.

Our stand off was interrupted by the point guard from Kaijou, Kasamatsu. He walked up behind Kise and laid a hand on his arm in warning. "It has nothing to do with us. It's Seirin's business."

"Yeah, fuck off," Kagami added.

Kise's eyes shifted from my face to his, narrowing dangerously. "You-"

"Kagami-kun, don't be rude," I said, cutting him off. "And Kise-kun, you've hit me before too, so you have no room to criticize." It was a low blow, but it was the only way I could think of to make him back down.

Kise took a step back, his skin paling suddenly. "That was an accident - I didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Let's go eat," I declared, and headed to the only free table in the establishment - the one Kasamatsu and Kise had been sitting at. I didn't care. I'd had so many arguments today, and my good mood was ruined. I just wanted to eat and go home. I plopped down on a chair, and a few seconds later, Kise slowly lowered himself in the free chair next to me. Kagami and Kasamatsu took up places opposite.

I could feel people's eyes on us from the other tables, like they anticipated the continuation of the fight. "Anyway," I sighed, taking a menu, "Let's order." One by one, they mimicked me with various degrees of stiffness.

The atmosphere lifted somewhat as the rest of Seirin turned back to their meals, and they toasted and celebrated the victory. Kise exhaled, his shoulders slumping. "Congratulations on beating Shutoku," he mumbled.

"Thank you," I replied.

Kasamatsu cleared his throat. "The ending was intense. How did you know Midorima would fake?"

"I guessed," I lied. It hadn't been a guess. In the last second of the game the future had unfurled so clearly before my eyes. The certainty that Kagami would make that last jump wasn't altogether unfamiliar, given how in tune I was to his movements; but being able to predict that Midorima would fake, _that_ was unexpected. I read which side of his body he would lower the ball to before Kagami's feet had even left the floor, and my arm had moved on its own, tipping the ball away.

The sheer clarity had been strange, but I wasn't going to question it.

"I'm glad we won, but this idiot injured himself." I shot an unhappy look at Kagami.

"I don't regret it," he grumbled, hiding behind his menu. Hm. It seemed he hadn't gotten the message. I made a mental note to drop him in a few more puddles before we went home.

Kise kept stealing guilty glances at me from the corner of his eye, but hearing the news cheered him up a bit, suspiciously enough.

A short time later, two new people entered the restaurant. "Oh. Hi," Kasamatsu greeted. Midorima's eyebrow twitched as he took in the celebrating Seirin, and he turned around to leave without a word. Takao followed. Unfortunately the storm took that opportunity to multiply ten-fold, and three seconds later the two Shutoku players were back inside, soaked like they'd dived in a swimming pool.

I still couldn't quite get a read on Takao. I'd managed to beat him in the end, but it had been a close thing - what would have happened if he'd prevailed over me? Despite his easy smile and conversation with Kasamatsu, he seemed a bit stiff and reluctant to look in my direction. He was frustrated he'd lost, understandably, and I wondered if my feeling of rivalry was reciprocated. Perhaps that was why he pulled Kasamatsu to a different table, as an excuse to get away from me.

It left a free spot in our table for Midorima, who took it stiffly.

It was tense at first. On the court, Midorima had taken the loss with grace (he really wasn't the type to cry in public the way Kise had). The only indication that he was upset was a momentary tightening of his jaw before he went to line up for the customary bow. But now that we were off the court he kept sulking and glaring and snapping at everyone - especially Kagami, whom he kept referring to as "brute" and "monkey".

Kise couldn't pass up the opportunity to poke fun at the miserable Midorima, which was enough to make him forget his own slump. Eventually, the topic of conversation moved on to more light-hearted talk of basketball and rematches. I finished dinner in a better mood than I thought I would, though Kagami still looked pissed off.

"I'll watch your game against Aominecchi as well," Kise promised as he stood up. He stopped walking as he drew level with Kagami and whispered something - it didn't look friendly. Kagami frowned half in irritation and half in confusion.

When he was gone Kagami turned to look at Midorima, his frown still in place, and then at me. It was easy to guess what he was thinking. It puzzled him that my former teammates were so hung up on the fact that he'd punched me. I doubted he'd guess I was a girl just from that, though.

Luckily for me, he was a bit thick for certain things.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

The next morning I could barely get out of bed. The muscles of my legs and shoulders ached horribly, and my cheek felt swollen and numb. I was used to waking up in similar conditions courtesy of Riko's insane training regimes, so after a few minutes of wallowing in despair I powered through it and got dressed, wincing repeatedly as I put on my uniform.

Like every other morning, I stood in front of the mirror, trying to flatten my bed hair into something acceptable for public exposure. While I did that I also scrutinized my cheek, wondering if I should try to cover it up. The bruise was an ugly dark purple and greenish patch that extended from the corner of my mouth to my eye. The swelling deformed my face, making it asymmetric. I looked like I'd been beaten up by a motorcycle gang in a dark alley.

I still had an old make up kit from my pre-Tetsuya days, but I doubted foundation would make much of a difference. The bruise was too big and dark to be completely covered. It would be obvious that I'd used make up, and that could lead to dangerous questions, so I decided to just leave it. It would go away on its own, eventually.

Like usual, I spotted Kagami before he spotted me, hanging out by his locker. His bruise wasn't as flashy - some discoloration on his cheekbone, impossible to miss but still nowhere near as big as mine. I felt disappointed, like I'd lost at something.

When he turned towards me and his eyes landed on my face, he flinched. I pouted. Definitely not as big as mine.

Although I successfully diverted attention from myself (I didn't want the teachers asking questions), Kagami wasn't as lucky. Whispers followed him in the corridors - I could already hear the rumors starting, not surprising given his already abysmal reputation. When we entered our classroom, an instant silence fell over the room.

He stood there for a second before plopping down on his desk. He moped, giving the evil eye to anyone who even looked at him funny. A group of girls near the window started a heated discussion. "I'm gonna ask him."

"Are you crazy? He'll kill you!"

"I heard he got in a fight with a Yakuza gang."

"Really? I heard he got arrested by the police."

"You know those rumors are out of proportion. He's not as tough as he looks," the first girl insisted.

"I dunno. They say Americans are crazy."

"Yeah, did you know they can use guns? Oh my god, what if he owns a gun?"

Kagami's scowl was darkening steadily. It was quite entertaining to watch.

"I'm curious, I'm going to ask."

"Yui!"

The girl, Saito Yui, stood up and approached us. She was shorter than me, but not by much, long hair, quite cute. She had better than average grades and was a bit shy, but nice enough, from my observations. She liked to cover her books with magazine clippings and wore her skirt a bit shorter than normal.

"Hi, Kagami-san," she greeted. She had a high, soft voice.

Kagami grunted.

"I noticed your face is bruised," she continued. "Did you get in a fight?"

"None of your business," he snapped.

Saito took a step back, intimidated. "Eep! Prickly!" But, to give her credit, she didn't cower. "Come on, I'm curious. The rumors will get worse if you don't say anything." After a moment, she insisted. "So? A fight?"

Kagami decided to just get it over with. "Yeah, whatever."

"Really? Who was the other guy?"

He looked sideways at me. Saito followed his gaze, and her eyes widened. Well. This was going to be inconvenient.

"Ah!" she startled. "Who are you?"

"I'm Kuroko Testuya. I've been in your class from the start of the year."

"There was someone sitting at that desk?" another girl in the background whispered. "I thought it was empty!"

Saito's eyes widened further when she took in my face. "Kuroko-san! Your face!"

I sighed. "Kagami-kun and I got into an argument, but we've made up now."

She looked back and forth between Kagami and I, shocked. After nearly a minute of gaping she walked stiffly to my desk and leaned down so she was eye-level with me. "Kuroko-san," she stated seriously, "is Kagami-san bullying you? I know people are scared of him, but I'm not. I'll help you."

"Oi!" Kagami yelled, offended. "He punched me first! Why doesn't anybody get that?"

Fortunately, the teacher arrived and the commotion died down. Unfortunately, the incident made Saito, and a lot of other people in the class realize that I existed, and they started following me around, pestering me with questions. Saito especially was very keen to learn about my relationship with Kagami and seemed to be convinced that he was bullying me, despite my assurances otherwise.

It was uncomfortable to be the center of so much attention, but I made an effort to be polite. I finally managed to convince Saito of Kagami's innocence by telling her anecdotes of his most ridiculous moments. "...Also, he's scared of puppies. He panics and crosses the road every time we come across someone walking their dog."

Saito giggled. "You wouldn't guess it from looking at him, but he's actually a softy, isn't he?"

"Yes," I agreed. "He's like a little kid."

"So why did you fight?"

"It was about basketball. But we solved it now."

"When you two are done talking crap about me," Kagami grumbled, "we can go to practice, Kuroko."

Saito placed her arms on my desk and leaned her chin on her wrists. "You're pretty funny, Kuroko-kun. I can't believe I didn't talk to you until today!" She smiled. "Let's talk more from now on, okay?"

I nodded. She would probably forget all about me tomorrow.

Much like the rest of the school, Seirin gaped when they saw us, and then collectively glared at Kagami. Again, I felt a stab at my pride, like I'd lost at something. Riko threw a towel and a small pot at us. "You two idiots go sit over there and put that on."

We went to sit on a bench in a corner of the gym and Kagami opened the pot. It contained a white, pasty cream. "Must be for the bruise," he deduced. He dipped two fingers in it and caught my chin with his other hand, tilting my head up.

I'd never seen his eyes this close - never appreciated his features as closely as I did then. They were rougher than Kise's, not picture-book perfect, but still angular and masculine. The moment stretched, his fingers hovering uncertainly over my cheek, and I realized I wasn't the only one that had been staring. My stomach tied itself into a knot.

"You," he said, mystified, "really look like a girl..."

Butterflies invaded my stomach and my heart started pounding. What was the best way to react? Momoi had given me lines in case anyone commented on my appearance, but right then I couldn't remember any. I glared, trying to seem offended.

He blinked and concentrated on my injured side, gently applying the cream. He started near my lip and moved up, dipping his fingers in the pot again when he ran out. It felt cool and soothing, like cold air. But my skin burned where his other hand held my chin. "There's some on your eyelid," he said, and I obediently closed my eyes to let him apply it there. Without my sense of sight, I was hyper-aware of the sound of his breathing, slow and deep and close.

When he was done he quickly dropped his hands from my face and wiped them on the towel. I got the pot and leaned in to do him. There was a small cut on his lower lip that had scabbed over, probably from him biting it when I punched him. I spread some cream on it with my finger, trying to be as careful as he'd been with me. I could feel his intent gaze on my face, but I concentrated on the bruise.

Finally done, I left him at the bench and went to do some warm ups, relieved to leave the weird tension behind.

Riko forbade Kagami from participating in the practice due to his injured legs, and instead forced him to sit and watch as she ran us to the ground. Perhaps it was just me, but I felt she was even more demonic than normal. When the final whistle blew, I collapsed on the ground.

"Don't be so hasty, boys," she said cheerfully. "It's not over yet."

"Huh? But we did the suicides," Koganei complained. The suicides were usually our last drill.

"We're starting a new drill," she informed. "It's called conditioned training."

"But we do so much conditioning-"

"Not conditioning, conditioned. Hyuga is quite familiar with it."

We all looked at Hyuga. He was pale as a sheet.

Riko's smile was sharp. "Kagami-kun, come over here." I remembered her threat during the game. This didn't bode well at all.

"Kagami will shoot a free throw," she announced. "If he makes it, you can all go home! But if he doesn't, you do another suicide."

The same thought flashed through all our heads at the same time. Kagami's free throw percentage was sixty percent. We stared at him. It'd be okay. He'd scored all the buzzer-beaters he'd ever taken. He could deal with pressure. He'd make it.

If he didn't, well. I didn't think I could do another suicide - a drill which involved sprinting up and down the court a number of times, and failure to do so within a certain time limit resulted in - surprise - another suicide. As it was I couldn't even pick myself up from the floor. I continued staring at Kagami, hoping to telepathically force his shot to go in.

"Guys, don't stare at me," he said as he bounced the ball for concentration. He picked it up, twirled it in his hands, and got into shooting position. Everyone held their breaths.

He missed.

"Too bad," Riko said. "Line up, everyone!"

Seirin groaned and went to the baseline. Because the shameful memory of that day with the push ups still burned in my mind, I somehow managed to drag myself there. Riko blew her whistle. We ran.

I faltered halfway through the drill, tripping over my feet in exhaustion. Mitobe, who was running next to me, discreetly grabbed my arm to support me and ran the last stretch with me. When we were done, he slipped his arms under my armpits to prevent me from collapsing.

"Again, Kagami-kun," Riko said.

Kagami, the only one who hadn't run, shifted nervously. His eyes flickered to me. It was obvious he didn't want to do it, but he didn't dare defy Riko. He swallowed and bounced the ball, twirled it in his hands.

 _Make it make it make it make it._

He made it.

Great!

Now I could faint in peace.

* * *

Since Kagami couldn't run, she continued making him shoot free throws for "conditioned training" at the end of every practice. If he missed, we did a suicide, and his face twisted in guilt. As much as I hated running, I wouldn't have traded places with him - he must have felt worse than we did.

It was cruel of Riko to put him in a position like that, but the message was crystal clear: the failure of one individual made the whole team suffer. Kagami wouldn't be playing selfishly again any time soon. His percentage also went up a bit, and the rest of us got fitter, so no one could say it wasn't effective.

The familiar routine of school, training, Maji continued, until it was shattered by one phone call.

I was at Maji's with Kagami - we'd finished eating and had our Maths homework spread out on the table, trying to work through a problem that neither of us knew how to tackle. It had been twenty minutes, and we were getting nowhere. My phone vibrated in my pocket. Expecting it to be Momoi, I picked up without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello, Tetsuko."

The voice was low and smooth, with perfect, cultured enunciation.

My heart must have missed three beats. Even through the phone, hearing him talk was like having a gun pointed at your head.

"Akashi-kun," I said, mouth dry. Opposite me, Kagami jerked, recognizing the name from our conversations.

I'd been expecting a call from him for some time, but now that it was actually happening, I realized that I was nowhere near ready.

"I was very interested to hear," and he paused here, and my heart was in my throat, "that there was a new player in Seirin High's basketball club going by the name of Tetsuya."

"I-wasn't trying to deceive you," I lied. "I just wasn't confident that it would work."

One would think that individuals like the Miracles, who were so far above everyone else, so inhuman and arrogant, would not bow down to anyone. One would be wrong. There was a single person capable of bringing the Miracles to heel, without challenge and without question. Akashi Seijurou.

Akashi was difficult to describe. Dangerous, definitely. He knew how to dominate and manipulate people like puppets. He had power and money and didn't hesitate to wield it. But he wasn't cruel, or kind - it made no sense to judge him by those standards. He was on a scale all of his own.

"You should have asked permission," he stated mildly. He didn't sound angry - but then again, it was Akashi, so I couldn't be sure.

He was right, of course. There had been no reason to hide my plan to disguise myself as a boy from him. If anything, things would have been easier with Akashi's support. But not asking was my act of rebellion - my quiet protest against his philosophy, his methods, his authority. Not telling him or the other Miracles of my intentions was my way of challenging them, of challenging him in particular.

He wasn't stupid; he'd realized that my choice had been deliberate. He could read between the lines.

Momoi thought hiding it from him was risky. According to her, it would make him angry, and he could decide that reporting me was a suitable punishment for my defiance. But I knew him better than she did. Over everything else, Akashi believed himself to be invincible. He didn't deal with challengers by neutralizing them; instead, he let them try, and reveled in their despair when they realized the futility of their efforts. Therefore, Akashi wouldn't report me or order me to leave Seirin. He'd let me try, just to make me realize that winning against him was impossible.

"I didn't want to waste your time with something that had very little chances of succeeding," I replied.

"I see. How fortunate that it did succeed, then. Of course, it will be futile regardless - even if you make it to Nationals, you will never defeat Rakuzan." He said it with the off-handed certainty that did not allow you to contest the statement. If you dropped something, it fell. If you stopped breathing, you died. If you went up against Akashi, you lost.

I kept my mouth shut.

"I will permit your impersonation of a boy in order to participate in the high school league," he assured. I'd been right; he wasn't angry. He sounded almost pleased, in fact. "However, I expect you to call me every Friday after school to give an account of your activities. I worry about you."

"Hai," I agreed.

"Good. That is all, Tetsuko. Congratulations on your victory against Shutoku."

"Thank you, Akashi-kun."

I let out a long breath as I put the phone down, feeling like I'd dodged a bullet.

Kagami was staring at me, tapping his pen on the table. "Is he really all that terrifying?"

"Akashi-kun is in a league of his own."

He hummed neutrally, and we returned to our Maths problem. We didn't manage to solve it - both of us were too distracted with thoughts of basketball. To be honest, I wasn't confident that Seirin had what it took to stand up to Akashi.

There was nothing to do but to keep getting better, I supposed.

* * *

 _A.N. Tell me what you think guys, reviews feed my soul._


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

Today was Saturday, and Seirin was having pool training in Riko's gym.

For obvious reasons, I wasn't attending. The official excuse was that I was allergic to the chlorine and other chemicals they put in pools. Of course, Riko didn't leave me the day to slack off - I was supposed to go on a ten kilometer run to work on my stamina. And time myself, evidently, and report back.

I decided to leave that for the afternoon, though. Right now, I was at the court near Maji's with Kagami (he'd been excused from pool training too, due to his injury), rebounding for him while he shot free throws. It was a cloudy day, not as warm as one would expect of this time of year, but that was good weather for outdoors basketball - with little wind and the temperature neither too hot nor too cold. We weren't talking much. He was concentrating on his free throws, and I was too absorbed in my own thoughts.

I had been avoiding it for a while, but there was no more time. I couldn't afford to keep ignoring the date. The final league started in less than two weeks, and our first opponents were Touou.

And when that happened, I would see Aomine again.

My chest felt tight. A month ago, I would have given anything to... I didn't even know. To see him? Nothing had been stopping me. I knew his address and the school he went to, it would have been simple enough to visit. I could also just have asked Momoi for his phone number. But I hadn't - because of my pride and his indifference and my resolve to see the plan through to the end. Calling him would have been like chickening out halfway through, like betraying the promise I'd made to myself when this whole debacle started; when I faced Aomine again, it had to be on the court, as an opponent, and no sooner.

I'd looked forward to it with the bitterness of someone who didn't have anything to lose. Now I didn't know anymore. I had a place in Seirin. I was happy as Kagami's shadow. For all I missed Kise and Murasakibara and Midorima and even Akashi, it wasn't about them anymore. I wasn't playing just to defeat them anymore. I was playing for my team.

But Aomine had been the one who opened the door to this world for me; he'd been the first. He was a threat because I wasn't sure if what I had with Seirin now was as good as what I had with him in the past, and some part of me still yearned for it, and it hurt.

(And there was also that other matter, but I wasn't going to think about that).

I wanted more than anything for him to love basketball again. I wanted to be friends with him again. I wanted to see him smile. The feeling when our first combination play succeeded in a game, his huge grin, his knuckles knocking against mine - I missed it so much. And yet even that shining emotion was darkened by resentment and a lick of anger because he'd _destroyed everything_.

Kagami missed his free throw and cursed loudly. I retrieved the ball and passed it back to him, watching as he dribbled, twirled it in his hands, and shot again, concentration furrowing his brow.

I couldn't keep second-guessing myself. The Teiko years were gone, I'd already accepted that, and Seirin was fighting for the Interhigh. The only reason I had to think about Aomine now was to come up with ways to defeat him, so I pushed the old feelings aside and tried to view him objectively.

Aomine was a monster. Although Kagami was growing quickly I didn't think he could stand on even ground with him yet, but that wasn't news to us; Kise and Midorima had also been above his level and we'd managed to defeat them by working together. What really worried me was that Aomine knew my basketball better than anyone. He knew all my habits and my patterns inside and out. He knew my thoughts and my movements as well as I knew his. I wouldn't be as effective against him as against the other Miracles.

But... he hadn't seen me in more than half a year, and I wasn't the same player as before. I'd trained really hard since middle school. I was faster and stronger and I could keep up the misdirection for two whole quarters without rest, which was twice as long as before. More important than my improvement as an individual, I had a stronger grasp on team play and my role in it. By working in a team as tightly knit as Seirin I was starting to understand certain aspects of the game and player behavior that I hadn't seen in Teiko.

Aomine was only one person, and Seirin wasn't weak. If we played at our full potential, we could beat him.

I shivered. I managed to convince myself it was caused by the breeze, and not the memory of the sharp, dark edge in his midnight blue eyes.

* * *

"Tetsu-kun!"

The cheerful exclamation made Kagami and I look up. Momoi ducked under the bars bordering the court and skipped towards me, hugging me around the waist and giving me a peck on the cheek. "Hi, Momoi-chan," I said. "How are you?"

"I'm fine! But I haven't seen you in weeks. I feel a bit neglected as your girlfriend." She glanced at Kagami from under her lashes. "Hello, Kagami-kun," she purred.

Kagami grunted something that could be interpreted as a vague _Hi_. I had the suspicion that he wasn't very good with girls. Or maybe it was just Momoi.

"I hope you don't mind if I steal him for a bit," she continued, taking my hand.

"Yeah, sure," Kagami said. He turned back to the basket and resumed his shooting.

We went for a walk around the block. She dropped my hand as soon as we were out of sight of the court. "There's a reason I came today."

"Okay."

"You have to tell Aomine," she stated without preamble. At my silence, she added, "Tetsuko, he acts like he doesn't care, but he really misses you. Yesterday he was looking up the tables for the female league, trying to find your name in one of the teams."

Oh.

Then again, he couldn't have missed me that much if he couldn't even be bothered calling me. "He knows you have my number. He could have called."

Momoi let out an exasperated sigh. "Look at it from his perspective. You quit the club after Nationals without an explanation, you stopped talking to him at school, and at the end of the year you disappeared without a trace. He's the one who thinks that _you_ don't care." She stopped walking. I stopped too, and turned to face her. She was staring at me seriously. "I know he hurt you," she said in a more gentle tone. "I understand how you feel. But you're playing against us in less than two weeks and he still doesn't know. As a friend of both of you I think you need to tell him."

I shifted uncomfortably. Aomine had always been a delicate topic between Momoi and I. She must have felt quite strongly to bring it up, but why the sudden change of heart? She hadn't protested when I'd asked her to keep it a secret from him in the past. "Did something happen?"

Momoi sighed and fiddled with her skirt. "He's gotten worse. He doesn't even pretend to care about the team, he starts fights and he gets in trouble at school. I've tried to talk to him about it but he doesn't listen. I don't know what to do," she confessed.

I bit my lip and looked away. That was his problem.

She took my hand again. "I know you planned to meet him on the court, but I think you should clear things up before we play. I want to have an honest game."

Momoi's words bounced around in my head for the rest of the day. Aomine had been the one who broke apart first, it had been his choice to end our friendship, not mine. He'd lost the right to my sympathy when he betrayed everything we were supposed to have. But it was a bit petty and cruel of me to keep him in the dark until the last moment. The other Miracles had known beforehand, they'd had time to prepare themselves and they'd gone out full power from the start - to not give Aomine the same chance felt a bit dirty. Even if he deserved it.

But I didn't think I was ready to meet him yet.

 _I want to have an honest game._

Momoi was right. If I waited until the game, Aomine would feel hurt and it could turn ugly, and I didn't want that. It was better to play honestly, with all the cards on the table, with both sides knowing what they were getting into. Whether I was ready or not I was going to have to see him anyway, a few days earlier wouldn't make a difference.

The next Monday I sneaked out of school an hour early and rode six stops on the train to the district Touou was in. The cold weather front from the weekend still hadn't passed, and the atmosphere was charged with the promise of rain.

As a school Touou wasn't as high-end as Kaijou. It looked fairly normal from the outside. Like in Seirin, a couple of students were hanging around the entrance, smoking. I settled against the wall next to them, fiddling with the sleeves of my uniform to try to calm down while I waited for classes to finish.

The sound of the bell made me jump. I pushed away from the wall and went to stand beside the gate, nervously peering inside. The crowds of students took no notice of me, despite the fact that my jet black gakuran stood out like a sore thumb amid the ocean of white shirts and teal jackets.

Aomine was one of the last to come out. My heart flipped when I spotted him, his book case carelessly slung over one shoulder, mouth stretched open in a yawn that he didn't even bother to cover with his hand. Although I'd been expecting it, his height and the width of his shoulders still took me by surprise - he looked older and so much more mature than the last time I'd seen him, though his usual lazy demeanor hadn't changed.

I breathed out slowly, feeling it shuddering in my chest.

He finished yawning. Our gazes met for half a second before his eyes slid to something behind me. Time slowed as he walked past me without giving me a second look, his arm almost brushing against mine.

I could predict the exact point he stopped walking. I held my breath as I heard him take one step, two steps, and then no more. We both turned around at the same time.

His eyes were wide. "Tetsu," he said.

 _I don't remember what your passes feel like anymore._

I swallowed. "Hi, Aomine-kun."

He was speechless for a moment. "What are you doing here?" he blurted. "I mean..." He quickly recovered, giving me a tilted grin. "It's been a while, eh?" The rich, deep drawl hadn't changed either. I let out another trembling breath.

"Yes."

I was an expert cartographer of the map of his face, cataloging every peak and hollow, the arch of his eyebrows, the small dimple at the side of his mouth. His grin fell away until we were both just staring in silence. I swallowed past the knot in my throat.

"Your hair's really short," he exclaimed. I reached up to twirl a strand between my index finger and thumb, trying to find the courage to get on with it. "It doesn't, eh, look bad or anything."

I nodded. "I heard that you play for Touou," I said, glancing back at the school.

"Yeah. Did you find a team?"

"Yes, I did."

"Are they good?" His eyes slid down my body and back up, and I felt his surprise grow. "Why are you wearing a guy's uniform?"

I dropped my hand. "That's what I wanted to tell you." This was going to be difficult. "Do you know which team Midorima lost against in the block A finals?"

He frowned, confused by the random question. "Satsuki was harping on about it. Can't believe some no-name school beat him. What a loser."

"It was Seirin High," I informed.

"Yeah, I'm playing them in my next game. I still don't get why you're wearing that."

He sure was taking a long time to figure it out. "It's Seirin's uniform," I said.

There was a beat of shocked silence.

"What?"

"I entered high school as a boy so I could play with Seirin," I explained, my heart thudding in my chest. My fingers trembled, so I shoved them in my pockets. I couldn't look at his face, the nervousness constricting my throat. "In men's basketball."

Then his shoulders hunched over and started shaking. "Pfffffft..." He laughed, loud and incredulous cackles. "What - are you - are you freaking serious?" he choked out in between labored breaths, earning himself a disapproving glance from a group of students that was still lurking around. He hit his forehead with the palm of his hand, his laughter gradually dying down. "And here I thought that you... Oh, this is dumb," he breathed.

I was surprised by his reaction. "I wasn't expecting you to laugh," I observed cautiously. "I thought you'd be more upset."

"No, this is..." He stepped closer, his hand falling on my shoulder. "Dammit, what the hell, Tetsu? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"It was a secret."

"Geez... I can't believe this. You're pretending to be a guy." His chuckled rumbled, making my stomach do flips. I hadn't heard him laugh in so long.

"Yes," I confirmed.

He smiled, still a bit stunned. His hand dropped from my shoulder and he took a step back, his smile vanishing as he digested the information, a hooded look falling over his eyes.

"So, Seirin?"

Ah. I was wondering when the anger would kick in. I nodded, watching him carefully.

"You beat Midorima?"

"Kise-kun too, in a practice match."

I could see the shift in his eyes, when he took me in as an opponent and not as the friend he had lost. "There must be an incredible guy on your team," he observed, his tone neutral.

"Kagami-kun is strong."

"I see," he said, and there were so many layers to that simple statement, so many things in his expression that I couldn't read.

"I came to tell you," I finally found the courage to say, "to take us seriously."

The wind lifted in the wake of my words, and the first droplets of rain started falling, desaturating the world around us to a grayscale blur. The sustained thrum of it quieted all other sounds like a persistent shush. He looked at me through the rain without saying anything, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth a dispassionate line. It brought back memories that I'd rather not revisit.

"I suppose I'd better go. See you in the game, Aomine-kun."

He didn't try to stop me when I left. I walked stiffly all the way to the station, and only when I was inside the train did I slump in an empty seat, the tension leaving my whole body all at once.

That hadn't been as bad as I'd feared. Still... my heart clenched inexplicably, wrung out by all the words that had passed unspoken between us.

* * *

Aomine watched Tetsu leave, his eyes darkening as the implications slowly sank in.

He turned around and gave a vicious kick to an empty can that was lying around on the sidewalk. It rebounded against the school gate with a hollow metallic sound.

"What the hell," he said to no one in particular, a grimace twisting his lips.

* * *

 _A.N. So... this turned into an Aomine chapter. Then again, that conversation was long overdue. I hope I got him right? I'm not sure, the dumb blueberry is super tough to write._

 _Some of you said you'd like to see more humor... I'm sorry there wasn't any in this chapter. I sort of suck at humor. I promise I'll try, though._

 _Also, an extra is coming up in one or two chapters! I'm thinking of giving it to Midorima, but Kise and Takao are also options. Any preferences?_


	10. Chapter 10

_Yas so this is kinda late. Sorry._

 _I don't really like this chapter, it's kinda rough but meh._

* * *

 **Chapter Ten**

* * *

When Riko yelled at Kagami for playing basketball while he was injured, the warning flags immediately went up.

I followed him out of the gym with the excuse of going to the bathroom. I'd insisted so much about him being careful with injuries, that I knew something significant must have occurred for him to disregard my warnings. "Kagami-kun. What happened?"

He dropped down from his handstand - another one of Riko's absurd requests - and walked normally besides me, shoulders hunched and hands in his pockets. "I met Aomine."

It was like a bucket of ice had been dumped on my head. I studied his face, alarmed. His mouth was a thin, straight line, his eyes unfocused. I could already guess what had happened, because he wasn't at Aomine's level yet, and he was injured - he must have lost. Quite badly, judging by his expression. "He spewed some crap about my not being good enough," he grimaced. "Arrogant bastard."

I opened my mouth to reply, but no words came out. I didn't know what I was supposed to say.

"He was your partner, right? Tell me what happened."

So I did. Not everything, but most of it. Revisiting the memories wasn't pleasant but, I owed it to Kagami; he deserved to know after accepting my silence on the subject for so long. I also told him about Aomine's style of basketball, his agility and his formless rhythm. "He's one of a kind," I said. "He has such perfect control of his body that the stances, the balance, the timing, all those rules that restrict everyone else's ability to move, they don't apply to him. His movements are so fluid and varied that it's impossible to predict what he'll do next."

Kagami frowned thoughtfully. "And his defense?"

"It can get sloppy sometimes," I admitted. "He's lazy. But I think he'll be rather aggressive, in this game. You might still be able to break through him with brute force." I nudged his calf with my foot. "You can jump higher than him, if you manage not to make your injury worse."

I didn't tell him what I feared most; that Aomine knew me too well to fall for my misdirection, that he might not only stop Kagami, but me as well.

* * *

I woke up on the morning of the game feeling like a truck had run over my stomach, chanced a look at the calendar on my bedside and groaned.

Why did it have to be today of all days?

I brushed my teeth, eyeing myself in the mirror. I looked terrible. My face was pale and I had shadows under my eyes. I couldn't even muster the energy to tame my bed-hair, so I left it as it was, the spikes sticking up in all directions. I sluggishly shrugged into my undershirt and my basketball kit, then went into the medicine cupboard and swallowed two pills of painkillers dry.

There wasn't much else I could do about it, so I slung my sports bag over my shoulders and left the flat.

"Kuroko-kun, Kagami-kun, you look terrible," Hyuga commented.

"Shut up," Kagami grumbled. "I was so excited I couldn't sleep."

"You too, Kuroko?"

"Something like that," I deadpanned.

There was a silence in the group. "Are you, uh, okay there, Kuroko?" Koganei asked.

"I am fine." Just as I said it, my stomach cramped, and I grimaced.

Koganei gulped. "Cool," he squeaked.

On some days I _really_ wished I was a boy for real.

The Pyramids stadium had been built only two years ago, as part of a project for Tokyo's candidacy to host the Olympics. Its bisected, curved and asymmetrical roofs made it look organic, like a marine animal rising up from the rolling hills that surrounded it. It was the same gymnasium where the middle school Nationals had been held; the last game my team had played here had been the ugliest I'd ever seen.

Every step closer was a fine edge between anticipation and dread, the indistinct sound of my team's chatter washing like a waterfall over my ears. I was going to play against Aomine. The nerves made my stomach roil worse than the physical discomfort, and I tightened my hold on the strap of my sports bag to steady myself. In the changing room, Aomine's invisible smirk dangled in front of my eyes, and I barely registered Riko's instructions or Hyuga's inspirational speech. Only seconds later, people were getting up, heading out into the court for warm-up. Where had all the time gone? I got up to follow.

I stopped just before crossing the final door to the court and swallowed. I could see Touou's players warming up through the glass, but my vision swam and I was unable to distinguish anything beyond their black kits.

A weight fell on my shoulder, startling me. "Calm down," Kagami said. He held my gaze, and for once he was the steady one.

I nodded, my nerves somewhat settled by his quiet confidence.

He squeezed my shoulder briefly. "Let's do this," he declared, and pushed the door open.

* * *

Extra: Midorima

* * *

From: Takao Kazunari

To: Midorima Shintarou

 _Hey Shin-chan! Are you coming to watch Seirin vs Touou? I really want to see Tetsuko-chan play again. And your other teammate Aomine too, right? I bet the match will be interesting._

From: Midorima Shintarou

To: Takao Kazunari

 _No._

At the time he wrote the message, he really had no intention of watching the team that had defeated him compete in the final league-

(that game should have been _his_. Yes, Kuroko and Kagami had the flawless chemistry, but he was the superior player with the superior team, logic and luck had both been on his side, how could he have _lost_? The gap in skill should have been more than enough to overwhelm their teamwork _._ He had spent the last few weeks thinking in circles, trying to pinpoint where exactly, at which point in the match his error had been, but every time he remembered the final score, his teeth started _grinding_ )

-he pushed up his glasses. No, he certainly hadn't intended to show up.

Takao continued texting him relentlessly, although Midorima hadn't replied anything beyond that initial _No_. He kept sending selfies in the basketball team's van every five seconds and also unrelated pictures of baby ducks, to the point that Midorima considered throwing his phone out the window just to make the buzzing _stop_.

At the same time, it would be petty to miss a chance to scout just because he was sore about his loss. It was Aomine and Kuroko. The more he sat there contemplating it, the more intrigued he felt by this match.

Curiosity, cat, he supposed.

But there was no way he was going with his team. They might get the wrong idea and think he actually _cared._ They'd start to pester him with their misplaced attempts at friendship again. His lip curled in distaste. Fortunately, Cancer's lucky charm today were sunglasses, and Oha Asa claimed that the item would make him look like a "different person," so maybe he'd be able to avoid them.

The Pyramids had a seating capacity of more than five thousand people, but there were barely a tenth of that milling about on the lowest level of the stands, nearly all of them from the schools or families of the players. Still, it was an impressive crowd for a high school game - all drawn there by the prospect of seeing Aomine in action, no doubt. Midorima remained a shady figure at the top of the stands, trying to pass unnoticed.

"Midorimacchiiiiii! This is a huge problem, help me!"

A pink magazine was shoved in his face. He startled and pushed it away. The model of the Generation of Miracles was standing next to him with a pathetic kicked-puppy expression on his face. "How did you know it was me?" Midorima asked.

"Why wouldn't I know it was you?" Kise replied, uncomprehending. "Take those glasses off, they look ridiculous. And help me!" He opened the magazine to a particular page and pushed it in front of Midorima's nose again.

Midorima sneered and took a step back, removing the sunglasses, since there was no need to actually _wear_ the lucky item as long as he had it somewhere on his person. He slipped it into one of his front pockets.

He hadn't seen Kise since the restaurant (luckily). Midorima didn't care much for the ditz; he was loud and infantile and liked to act even dumber than he actually was. However, he also acknowledged Kise's talent and dedication to basketball; in Teiko, he'd rarely skipped practices, even in third year when Akashi sanctioned it. Unlike, for example, Aomine or Murasakibara, who could only be bothered to show up maybe once a month. Kise had often shared Midorima's half of the gym, practicing his dribbling or playing imaginary one-on-ones against an absent Aomine.

That didn't erase the fact that he was Annoying.

Midorima glanced at the page just so Kise would stop trying to smother him with it; like the cover of the magazine, there was a lot of pink, as well as pictures of shirtless teen male models. A bar graph was on the side of the page and it seemed to rank the candidates in various fields.

Midorima recoiled in disgust. He'd never felt curious enough to pick up a magazine aimed at the opposite sex and this just went to prove how right he was in keeping girls at arm's length. Did all of them read this kind of thing? It was repulsive.

Kise's finger was pointing insistently at the graph so he made an effort to decipher the flowery writing. Apparently, the basketball player was ranked first in the category of 'Guy you would have a hot make out session with' with seventy-three percent of the votes. "This is revolting, get it out of my face."

"No, look at this!" Kise pointed at one of the smaller bars. He was ranked _last_ in the 'Guy you would enter a long term relationship with' category with only one point two percent of the votes.

"So?" Midorima said, straightening up and turning towards the court so he wouldn't have to look at the offensive pink monstrosity. Touou had started doing layup rounds, but Aomine wasn't there.

"What do you mean, so? One point two percent! It's a disaster!" Kise wailed. "I'm not that bad at relationships. Do girls really think I'm that bad?"

Midorima grimaced to himself and didn't deign with a response, altogether unsurprised. The day's horoscope for Gemini had been _You will have mixed luck today - brace yourself for surprises, both good and unpleasant._

"Hey, Midorimacchi," Kise mused, "is Kurokocchi the casual type or the long term relationship type? I've never really thought about it before, but maybe she prefers casual-"

"I don't know, and I don't care," Midorima snapped.

Kise slumped on the railings, pouting at the bar graph and wallowing in self-pity.

Midorima ignored him. In the scale of Annoying People, Kise was a solid nine out of ten, but thankfully the blonde's attention tended to wander away from him if he remained silent for enough time. (How pleasant life would be if such a tactic had worked with Takao. The point guard smashed his own record on the scale every day - he was currently an unparalleled twenty-seven). As if summoned by his thoughts, familiar laughter wafted over to him from the entrance to the stands, over on his left.

 _Oh hell no._

Midorima looked around for a place to hide. He slid his glasses back on and headed to a different exit, but before he could get there, Takao erupted onto the stands, cackling to himself about something on his phone. Midorima's phone beeped, and the noise drew Takao's attention. A large, gleeful grin spread on his face. He was in Midorima's personal space instantly.

"Aw, Shin-chan, you came! I knew you loved me after all." At this point Midorima had been conditioned to automatically flinch at the drawling tone. Yes, it was that obnoxious.

"It has nothing to do with you. I came to watch my old teammates."

"Ouch! That hurts my feelings," Takao whined, dramatically grasping his shirt over his heart. He glanced at Kise. His sharp blue eyes flashed. "Hey. I remember you from the restaurant. Kise Ryouta, right? Another one of the Miracles."

Kise had lifted his eyes from his magazine and was watching their interaction with raised eyebrows. "I used to be, but I play with Kaijou now," he said lightly.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Takao Kazunari. I heard you also lost against Tetsu-chan."

At Kise's questioning glance, Midorima pushed up his sunglasses. "He knows."

Takao grinned. "Shin-chan couldn't keep his mouth shut."

"Don't lie. You wouldn't stop nagging me."

"Hey, we can call ourselves the People Who Lost To A Girl club!"

Midorima made a strangled noise of distaste, and Takao chuckled. _Why._ Why was his life's mission to find the worst ways of embarrassing Midorima in public? It was sickening _._

They watched as Seirin arrived. Kuroko was last, and she blinked around in surprise for a few seconds before Momoi stalked closer and explained something. Kuroko nodded and joined her team for the warm-up without a word. Midorima's lips thinned when minutes passed, the starting whistle blew and Aomine still failed to make an appearance. Social consensus dictated it was extremely rude to arrive late to a match; rude to the opposition, to the referees, to the spectators and to one's own teammates. To Midorima it was not a matter of upsetting people's sensitivities so much as respecting the sport; he believed that if one could not be bothered to arrive on time to a game, then one should not play basketball at all. In this case, though, given what he knew about Aomine and Kuroko, the insult was twice as severe, and he wondered if it had been deliberate.

"Jeez, I go through all this trouble and the Aomine guy isn't even here. That's kind of disrespectful, isn't it," Takao commented.

"Considering their history, yes," Midorima answered.

"You mean the light and shadow thing, right?" Kise asked.

"In part." Midorima wondered if he should say the rest or not. He decided not to. It didn't concern him.

Kise straightened. "Don't just stop there. What do you mean, in part?"

"It's none of your business."

Kise grabbed his arm, oddly serious. "What history?"

Midorima pulled away with a _tch_. Might as well say it, he supposed. Kise looked like he was determined to find out and even Takao had cocked his head in interest, and he didn't think he'd be able to survive _both_ of them nagging him at the same time. "Kuroko liked Aomine romantically, but he turned her down."

Kise let him go, shocked. Midorima turned back to the game, not interested it whatever personal tragedy he was going through.

Seirin wasn't playing their best. They weren't making any major mistakes either, but they'd been taken off-guard by the skill of Touou's regulars and were taking too long to respond appropriately and ramp up their game. While the basketball Touou played was ugly, and the coach was content to allow a single player to carry the ball all the way from the baseline to the basket without even one pass, it was also brutally effective, given the difference in skill on a one-to-one basis. Kagami was the only one who could defend somewhat decently. Midorima grudgingly acknowledged that the players in Touou were vicious and would probably give his own teammates a run for their money.

 _Or rather,_ he thought, eyeing the pink-haired figure sitting on the bench, _it's because of_ her _._

"Romantically... How do you know?" Kise asked quietly.

"I was training late and overheard the conversation," Midorima replied without lifting his eyes from the game.

Seirin's coach switched their defense to zone. A good call in his opinion, given the situation. It was a strange zone, like a box-and-one but where was Ku- ah, there she was. The configuration was designed to let her steal without compromising the basket.

"And the guy couldn't even be bothered to show up?" Takao's usual smile had vanished. "You miracles are all kinda jerks, you know that? Poor Tetsu-chan." His eyes followed Kuroko intently, sparking when she _did_ steal and transitioned into a pass in the same smooth motion. "Jeez, she's so good. I _really_ want to play her again." He chuckled, his fingers twitching on the railing, restless. "Dammit. Shin-chan, we should have been the ones down there."

Midorima returned his gaze to the game, feeling a bitter tug in his gut. He wholly agreed with the sentiment.

"When was it?" Kise asked. "The thing with Kurokocchi and Aominecchi. What happened?"

"It was at the beginning of last year. I assume Aomine hadn't been expecting it. She confessed her feelings and he didn't react very well, but given that he's a brute, that's not surprising. I don't know more details because I left when I realized the conversation was private." Unlike _some_ people, Midorima didn't go around sticking his nose into others' private lives.

Kise's hands were clenched on the railings. "Gah," he spat at last. "Come on, Kurokocchi. Smash this game on that idiot's face."

But at half-time Seirin still hadn't managed to pull ahead despite Aomine's absence, and Midorima sneered. If he'd known the team that had defeated him would make such a pathetic showing, he wouldn't have come to watch.

It _should_ have been Shutoku on that court.

He'd make sure it would be, next time.

* * *

 _A.N. Well, um. Sorry for the wait, and I hope you liked this chapter._


	11. Chapter 11

_A.N. Warning: minor canon divergence ahead_

 _(Also, period days are the worst)_

 _(Also, I'm not very good with emotions. Sometimes I write like a robot and sometimes like a bipolar opera singer. Please tell me what you think)_

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven**

* * *

Being benched was something I was used to; as a sixth man I was only switched in at key moments in the game to make the play that would tip the score, or when the coach needed a change of strategy to surprise the opposition. Since joining Seirin that had changed - I was now a regular, due to the tremendous boost I gave Kagami's offensive power. But I didn't mind sitting down when I had to. I generally enjoyed myself watching, not to mention I didn't have the stamina to be on the court for the whole forty minutes anyway.

Today was different. Today I was still as a statue and coiled tight as a spring and if I didn't do anything, I was going to implode. _Rationally_ I knew that if I went in now I would be signing our defeat, because I needed to recover in order to be effective, but sitting here watching how Aomine dribbled circles around Kagami was tearing my heart in two.

He was breathtaking. He was basketball distilled down to its very essence, its purest form, and then set loose of all limitations. He faked, bent and spun, his dominion over the ball as flawless as if it was an extension of his own soul. Kagami tried to keep up, but every time it seemed like he'd gotten there Aomine would grin like a madman, and then twist and chuck the ball with such ease it was like he was tossing scrunched paper into a trashcan.

It wasn't that he loved basketball, it was more than that. Basketball loved _him_.

I knew why he'd been late; he'd wanted to get back at me for not telling him about Seirin, for not joining him in Touou of maybe for letting him believe he'd never see me again. I'd asked him to take us seriously and he'd done the exact opposite just to spite me. My fists were shaking on my knees.

Eventually Aomine grew impatient. He scored and lazily picked up the ball again, glancing at Kagami. "This is boring. You can't beat me alone." He turned to our bench, and every player on the court halted, surprised. Aomine met my gaze and beckoned with two fingers. "Get over here, Tetsu."

I looked to Riko, who nodded her permission, and stood up. "Sub, please," I told the table. Aomine tossed the ball to the referee. I took a deep breath and stepped over the side line.

For the first few minutes I was convinced we could do it. Kagami rose again and we scored on Touou, once, twice, three times. To any other player in this league, Aomine's rhythm was unpredictable and erratic, impossible to match. To me, it was almost reassuring in its familiarity. As the minutes passed I started to see him clearly again, started anticipating him with the same ease that had allowed me to give him carefully-timed passes in Teiko. Unfortunately, the same was true in reverse. He knew the way I thought. He cut my passes.

It didn't bother me. I felt like I just needed a bit more time, like I was on the verge of _something._

Then Riko pulled Kagami out. "You can't sit me down now! I can still-"

"Shut up!" she cried. "Your injury-"

"It's already healed!"

"It's going to cripple you permanently!" She closed her eyes and exhaled, strained. "Just- sit down."

I watched Kagami's taut, silent walk to the bench. I hadn't realized his injury - but there was nothing anyone could do.

Amonie sighed. "There's a forty point gap and only six minutes left to play. I win this one, Tetsu."

I was strangely... calm. He knew me too well, he could shut me down, and without Kagami our chances of winning were infinitely small, but somehow, that didn't matter to me. I told Aomine the same thing I'd told Midorima before; that it was impossible to call the outcome of a match before it was over, that our chances only went down to zero if we gave up, and I wasn't going to make it zero. I was teetering on an edge, but at the same time, perfectly steady.

The referee whistled for the game to resume.

The high-frequency soundwaves impacting on my eardrums were like a trigger. I fell over that edge and started to sink. Everything beyond the limits of the court - the spectators, the benches, even the scoreboard - blurred out of focus, became unimportant. The ache in my abdomen and the exhaustion faded; sounds were muted, like the court had been submerged underwater.

The ball was a shining beacon in my awareness and pass courses were fluorescent lines that I could cut or bend with a precise twist of the wrist.

Aomine was staring at me, and even though he was usually one of the hardest people for me to trick, his gaze didn't offer any resistance to my misdirection. I slipped to the side to cover the lane between him and Touou's point guard, easily cutting the predictable pass. Aomine's surprised reaction was of no concern to me. I existed in the moment. I had to stop _this_ play. We had to make _this_ basket. Redirect to Izuki. It went in. Defense.

I went to cut the next pass - too slow, they scored. Never mind, get up again. Pass and place the screen - ugh, that hurt. Roll and - no, Aomine's anticipated it. Hold the ball. Shoot it. My percentage was ridiculously low normally, something like ten or fifteen percent, no one had ever taught me to shoot after all, but somehow I knew this time it would go in. The ball bounced on one side of the rim, then the other, then went through.

Aomine reached out. "Hey-" Defense. Mushroom is going to use this lane, cut it. I ran past Aomine without looking.

The referee's whistle snapped me out of the trance. I straightened, blinking away too-bright gym lights, disoriented by the loud return of voices. What was - was the game already over? I whirled towards the scoreboard.

61 - 100.

The return to reality gave me whiplash.

* * *

Kagami was furious; I could feel the frustration and rage radiating off him even from where he sat. The knot around my tightened. It hurt. I'd thought we stood a chance, at least. It really hurt.

"Oi." A weight fell on my shoulder. I jerked my arm forwards but Aomine's hold only tightened. "Oi, did you-"

"Line up!" the referee instructed. I shook him off and headed to the center of the court.

* * *

I was the last in the changing room, staring at the lockers in front of me without really seeing them. My mind was stuck in the game - the things I could have done, the moments I should have changed.

That strange underwater sensation - what had that been?

"Let's go, Kuroko," Kagami's voice called from the direction of the door.

I ignored him. Would anything I did even have made a difference? Touou had crushed us.

There was silence for a while, but I didn't hear him leaving. "I guess this is our limit," he finally said. "Honestly, I thought we'd play pretty well, but in the end it was still shit."

I stared listlessly down at my hands. Yeah. Shit was an accurate way to describe it.

"Looks like, against sheer skill, cooperation alone isn't enough to win, eh? Stop passing to me from now on."

I reeled, the wind knocked out of my lungs. I whirled around, but he'd already left.

Cooperation wasn't enough? Did he- was he saying it was my fault?

But Kagami and I were partners. We worked together. It was supposed to make Seirin strong. I stared at the empty doorway in incomprehension. Stop passing to him? Break off our partnership, just like that? He preferred to play without me? He _did_ think it was my fault. The ice-cold realization synergized with the physical exhaustion and the ache in my lower abdomen, and bile climbed up my throat. I jerked towards the sink, where I proceeded to vomit out the contents of my digestive tube.

Even when I was done, the ache persisted. I rinsed my mouth out and cleaned my face up with trembling hands, fighting the nausea. It was a good thing I was alone; I couldn't imagine facing anyone in this state. Determining I should go home as soon as possible, I grabbed my sports bag and stepped into the empty corridor.

Or not so empty. Aomine was leaning against the wall when I came out. Just looking at him made my stomach twist again. I started walking past him, but he cut me off. "Don't ignore me. There's something I need to know."

I kept my gaze fixed on his shoulder, refusing to look up. I just wanted to be left alone. He'd already proven Seirin was nothing to him. He'd broken my heart twice already, what more could he possibly want?

"You shot _._ And you made it. You never did that before."

I shrugged indifferently. _"_ At least _one_ of my shots has to go in at some point."

"In the last six minutes, you beat us."

Huh?

"We were up by forty. We only won by thirty-nine." His eyes searched my face. "Did you open it?"

"Open what?" What was he going on about? I looked away, but he grabbed my wrist. "Please let me go."

His grip tightened until it was painful, and he ducked his head, forcing me to meet his eyes; the darkness in them was magnetic. I sucked in a breath. I hadn't been this close to him since that one time I told him I felt something and he said _why did you have to go and make things weird_ -

"The door," he insisted. "No one else noticed, but _I_ did. At the end, you-"

"She said to let her go, Aominecchi."

Kise stood in the middle of the corridor, hands in his pockets and staring levelly at us, his usual playful smile nowhere to be seen. Momoi was next to him, a frown on her face. Aomine's hand loosened in surprise, and I was able to tug my arm away and take a step back. "We're just talking," Aomine said. "Don't butt in."

Kise and Momoi looked at each other, and through unspoken agreement, Momoi stalked forwards. "Come on, Daiki, you've filled your quota of being a jerk for the day. Let's go home."

Aomine looked at me, but I refused to budge my gaze from the wall. He allowed Momoi to drag him down the corridor.

I watched his back as he disappeared from view. I wanted to say something, like _we'll definitely win next time._ But the air just wouldn't leave my throat. 61 to 100 _._ What was I supposed to do? How did I begin making up that difference? It was impossible. Without Kagami, I wasn't worth anything.

"Hey," Kise said, wiping my cheek with his thumb. When did he get close? "Come on, don't cry, Kurokocchi." But the tears were already blurring my vision. He wiped my other cheek and then hugged me. "Shh, it's okay." I silently buried my face in his chest, my fingers twisting in his shirt.

In sports, teams lost just as often as they won, I told myself. I couldn't cry just because of that. But Aomine and then Kagami and I was never going to beat the Miracles after all, and I'd always known it was a long shot, but it wasn't until today that I realized that my basketball just _wasn't good enough._

Kise continued saying encouraging things that rumbled pleasantly in his chest. I let the soothing words wash over me, and it helped, a little.

I still felt like splattered roadkill, but at least it was more numb, more manageable. I breathed in, and out. I'd gotten Kise's shirt drenched. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "It's not really about the game. Kagami hates me. And then Aomine-"

"They're both idiots," he interrupted fiercely. "I wish," he sighed, his body slumping into mine. "I wish I could make you forget about them."

I didn't break away from the hug even after I was calm. It felt nice, and Kise didn't seem to mind. One of his hands rested on my lower back, tracing small circles; it made some of the ache there go away. I sighed and snuggled closer. One could say many things about Kise, but he did know how to make a person feel better.

"Thank you," I said to the soft texture of his shirt.

"I'll always be here for you, Kurokocchi. I promise." There was something delicate in the words, something sincere and tender that made my breath catch.

Kise had given me hugs before, or at least attempted to, but they were usually flamboyant, rib-crushing and just annoying. This one was different, soft, quiet, more intimate. I could feel his chest move with every inhale and exhale and smell the faint citrus of his cologne. His hands were gentle around my waist, like I was something precious that might fly away if he wasn't careful. I wondered if this was how he hugged girls usually, and if it made their hearts stutter like mine; but I didn't have the emotional capacity to handle it right now, and he probably didn't mean anything by it. He was just being a good friend.

I stepped back. He didn't tighten his hold like he usually would; instead he let me go easily, his fingers lingering on my waist for an instant before dropping. "I should go home," I said.

"Do you want me to walk you?"

"I think I need some time alone. But thank you, Kise."

"Okay." He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You can call me if you need anything."

* * *

The following day, Kagami and I didn't talk at school. Our desks were next to each other but there might as well have been a concrete wall separating us. I wanted to ask him if he'd really meant it, but I was afraid of the answer and we were playing Meisei this evening. There was no point in making myself miserable before a game that we _had_ to win. Out of all the teams in the final league, Meisei was the one we stood a fairly good chance against, even with Kagami injured. I was finding it hard to dredge up the usual enthusiasm, though. My stomach still hurt. Thoughts of yesterday kept tangling in my head and other than it was about the Edo period, I had no idea what the teacher was going on about.

At lunch, Kagami jumped out of his seat as soon as the bell rang and left for the cafeteria without a look back. I sighed quietly and started packing my books.

"Hey, Kuroko-kun."

I looked up. Saito Yui was leaning on my desk, brown eyes peering intently at me. It was something she'd started doing more often lately, hanging around my and Kagami's desks during breaks. Sometimes she helped us with homework, since her grades were better than ours. She was a bit strange, but I didn't mind her. She always found ways to make Kagami flustered or embarrassed, which was entertaining to watch. "Hi, Saito-san."

"Are you and Bakagami fighting again?"

"You could say that."

She pursed her lips and blew a raspberry. "What happened this time?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"I don't like it when you guys fight," she said. "It doesn't suit you. Did he do something stupid? Wait, I know! Punch him in the face again, that should take care of it, right? Bam!" She demonstrated by straightening up, adopting a boxing pose and punching the air in front of my face.

 _Cooperation isn't enough._ The tiny stab of pain almost made me wince. "I appreciate your advice, Saito-san, but I don't think that will work this time."

That evening we lost against Meisei, by one point. I'd started the game in an optimistic mood, telling myself to put the Touou episode behind me and focus on winning today. I thought I was doing alright, but Riko pulled me out earlier than usual in the first half and didn't put me back in until the last minutes of the fourth quarter. In the last second, they stole one of my passes and scored from the turnover. It had been a mistake; a stupid, risky pass that I never should have attempted. In the changing room, nobody said anything. We all knew _I_ was the reason we lost that game.

Kise had come to watch too. He waited for me outside the gym with a bittersweet smile and a vanilla shake on each hand. He told me that every player had bad days, I couldn't be expected to be perfect all the time. While I knew it was true, the feeling of guilt didn't dissipate.

We would have won against Meisei if it weren't for me.

That night I lay in bed thinking about the following game against Senshinkan, a black knot of dread tying up my stomach. For the first time since I could remember, I didn't _want_ to play. The prospect of being put on the court and making another mistake like Meisei's had me on edge. I wondered if I should say something to Riko, ask her to keep me benched just this once, but I wasn't brave enough. Either way, without Kagami, Seirin would need my passes to have a chance against the King of the North - I had to play.

I just wasn't sure I'd be able to play well, and even if I played my best, it probably wouldn't be enough.

And that was the crux of the issue: I'd reached my limit. I was fitter than ever, I was better at misdirection than I'd ever been, my passes were at their most powerful. This was as far as a shadow could get. And it hadn't even been a challenge for Aomine.

It was exactly like Kagami had said: cooperation wasn't enough. My basketball wasn't enough.

A vibration on my nightstand. I didn't pick up; I knew it was Momoi. Crying on Kise had been embarrassin, I didn't need her trying to comfort me too.

The next day, despite everyone's best efforts, we lost against Senshinkan.

Seirin was out of the Interhigh.


End file.
